


A Loving Nightmare

by LadyofI



Series: Tales of the Society [11]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Love Virus, Love Zombie Apocalypse, Multi, yeah it's one of those stories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-23 23:45:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16628786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyofI/pseuds/LadyofI
Summary: It's Valentine's Day in the Nexus and love is in the air. But when Izza Naami is bitten while on an excursion, love quickly becomes a fast-spreading virus that threatens to destroy the Society from within. Can they stop it before it becomes a full-blown apocalypse?





	1. Happy Valentines

**Author's Note:**

> Sweet Mother, this story. As I mentioned in both the tags and the warning, LOTS of implied rape/Non-consensual sex in this story. This has to be one of the darkest stories I've ever written. So, tread lightly. But if you must know, this story is about my friends' and my personas/OCs lives on the Nexus, an anomaly that pulls in all sorts of worlds that attract its 'eye', so to speak. Thus, only a couple of these characters (Irene and Isaac) are mine.
> 
> (Also, yes, one of the characters does die. He gets better.)

## Part 1: Happy Valentines

It was a quiet morning on Tide’s Bastion; only the sounds of nature could be heard as the sun rose upon the Crimson Society’s headquarters. The building itself was silent, save for Chervil cooking breakfast in the kitchen…but not for long. On the third floor of the mansion, several Society members were stirring in their beds, murmuring, grumbling, and making various other unintelligible noises as their minds shook off the lingering cobwebs of slumber.

For some members, like the ever-energetic B.Nana or the disciplined Gideon, it was practically second nature to get up with the sun. For others, it was an ordeal of herculean proportions.

“Time to get up, Irene.” Tsuneo’s muttered statement only caused the woman beside him to snuggle against his chest even harder.

“Fuck that; give me five more min-” Irene’s plea turned into a yelp as Tsuneo rolled out of bed, dragging her out of her blanket and onto the floor with him. “Actually, no; fuck _you_ , hun.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, love.” The revenant chuckled to himself as he untangled himself from the pyromancer’s embrace. “We’ve got a whole day ahead of us before we get to _that_ part of the itinerary.”

“The hell are you…” Never what anyone would call a “morning person”, it took Irene’s groggy mind several seconds to process Tsuneo’s comment; when it did, however, she was jolted to full wakefulness. “…Oh. Right.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” Tsuneo gave a good-natured eye roll as Irene got to her feet, giving her boyfriend a grin in return as her mood took a visible upswing.

“Hope you’re ready for me to rock your world tonight, hun~” Irene’s wings turned bright pink with heart-shaped markings as she spoke. Noticing the shift, she forced the thoughts at fault down until her wings returned to their normal red, although the hearts remained. _Focus, Irene. You cannot be having those thoughts so early - you_ literally _just got out of bed! Either save them for tonight or go back to sleep and have one_ hell _of a wet-_ She buried her face in Tsuneo’s chest, trying to hide her blush. “Godsdammit, it really _is_ V-Day if I’m already a mess this soon.” Her blush only increased when she felt him patting her on the head.

“Get a hold of yourself,” Tsuneo gently chided, parting from his girlfriend in order to don his normal attire. “I’ll meet you downstairs; we have another busy day ahead of us.” After fastening his jacket and securing his mask on his face, he walked past Irene and to the door, leaving the flustered pyromancer to brace herself for her imminent torture.

“I love you, hun, I really do…but _godsdamn_ do you put me through hell. Can’t you just let me have _one_ V-Day without doing this to me?!” Irene’s lament made Tsuneo pause in the doorway, memories of the previous year’s “festivities” bubbling back to the forefront of her mind.

“And risk a repeat of _last_ year? Hell no - I’m taking every step to keep the place peaceful so we can have our plans unchallenged by the Nexus around us.” Tsuneo frowned behind his mask as he also recalled the Society’s last Valentine’s Day. He had spent the entire day performing “business as usual”, ignoring Irene’s increasingly blatant hints and come-ons until she finally snapped. Yanked through a portal to their shared bedroom, Tsuneo had prepared for what was shaping up to be an unforgettable evening with his girlfriend…

…and then the NVTA chose that moment to implement their “last-minute plan to save (read: ruin) Valentine’s Day forever,” according to Nevic. If nothing else, Irene had _certainly_ enjoyed immolating him and Tradere to within an inch of their lives; nevertheless, the whole experience had been a disaster she had tried to repress…until now.

“Don’t worry, Irene - this time _will_ be different. If Nevic and his pals even _think_ of repeating last year’s plot…they’ll learn what _white-hot_ Ether tastes like.” With that reassurance, Tsuneo left the room to let Irene gather her thoughts, shaking off the memories of the blackened day and steeling herself for the one ahead.

“Okay, new plan: Get coffee to wake the hell up, focus on _everything_ but jumping his bones, maybe talk Jack into helping me work out that new schematic…scratch that, he’s probably already gone.” Irene took a deep breath before slowly exhaling through her mouth. “Just…don’t think about today.” She changed out of her nightshirt into her normal clothes and headed out the door, only to nearly run into Izza as she passed by her room.

“Hiya, booberfly~”

Irene let out another sigh at Izza’s greeting. “It is _too early_ for you to be calling me that. Better yet, it’s too early for you to be up to trouble.”

“Who, me?” Izza gave her most innocent pout. “I’m just goin’ to the Underground to find artifacts. Wanna join me?”

 _That sounds like a good idea. It’ll get me away… from… here… and stuck with her. Oh fuck no._ The thought of having only Izza for company/backup if they ran into trouble quickly dampened Irene’s enthusiasm. “Sorry, gonna be busy today.”

“Trying to get laid? I can help~” Izza’s offer made Irene’s wings turn pitch-black in an instant.

“You touch me with _any_ of your wands and I swear to the gods that they’ll _never_ find your body.” Her voice dropped to a whisper as she elaborated. “Tsuneo’s gonna leave me high and dry _all damn day_ ; if you do anything to make me an even _hornier_ wreck, I may end up taking out my frustrations on _you._ ”

Predictably, Izza’s response was a raised eyebrow and a soft whistle. “Hmm…tempting…but I’m not the type to steal a spoken-for lady on this special day. Good luck with that, butterbutt - I’ll see ya later~!”

As the chaotic magician girl rushed off to the teleporter room, Irene’s wings turned white as her hand met her temples. “Gods, what does my crazy-ass brother _see_ in you?” Deciding not to ponder that too closely, she shook her head and joined the slow trickle of Society members proceeding down the hall on their way to breakfast.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The flash of a Warp Pad heralded Izza’s arrival in what her friends had dubbed “ **the Wizard’s Dump** ”; a world chunk rife with discarded magical artifacts. The Society had found it by chance on one of their excursions, rigging a teleporter to both access and track it as it drifted through the planet’s depths; now, it served as Izza’s go-to place for new trinkets, curiosities, and other items to pique her interest in the arcane.

“Hmmm…aahh~” The former Scarlet Collective member stretched her arms over her head with an exaggerated sniff. “I _love_ the smell of lost magic artifacts in the morning! Now, let’s see…what can I dig up today~?” She set one of her wands on the ground and gave it a quick twirl, causing it to point in a random direction. “Alright, we’re goin’ this way!”

With her heading set, Izza began strolling through the Wizard’s Dump, unhurried but alert. Nature had done a good job of reclaiming the place, but all that stray magic made the local life forms highly unpredictable. The last time she had been here, all the wildlife started dancing and forced her to join in on it; as fun as that was, she wasn’t keen on a repeat.

Suddenly, a gleam of color caught her eye; a large, sky-blue crystal nestled in a bush. With a grin, she went over to examine it, noting the tangible aura of power emanating from it. “Well now, aren’t _you_ a little beauty?” She knelt down and plucked it from the bush, noticing the almost feather-light brush against her hand just a moment too late…

“Aah!” Izza nearly dropped the gem - more from surprise than pain - as she withdrew her hand, revealing a quickly-reddening welt amid the tattered remains of a web. Looking down, she glimpsed the culprit: a tiny, pink-and-white spider, quickly scuttling back into the safety of the bush. She scowled - more annoyed than concerned - before pressing the Red Rune to the welt and blasting that chunk of her hand clean off with an Arcane Laser. Not even the most lethal spider bite could kill what was already dead, and she didn’t seem to mind the pain, even as the flesh chunks exploded into electric jam that clung to the flora around the splash zone. 

“Fucker… Ah well, I think this is worth investigating, at least.” She turned the gem about in her hand as the wound on it slowly healed over, bleeding for only a few seconds. Once it stopped, she pressed her wand to the injured area and regenerated the flesh back as it was. “There we are; like I was never bitten~” With a jaunty whistle, she turned on her heel and left to search elsewhere, leaving the spider to rebuild its ruined web.

Had Izza lingered to watch its work, she might’ve glimpsed the odd marking on the underside of its abdomen: two scarlet hearts facing each other, points overlapping to form the shape of an hourglass… 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

The Crimson Society’s dining hall was always a flurry of activity around mealtime, but today’s breakfast felt especially hectic to Chervil. He wasn’t bothered about it - indeed, he _welcomed_ the challenge - but it definitely felt as if many of his friends were in quite a rush to get their food this morning. Having checked the date when he awoke an hour or two ago (“the early bird gets the best tip”, as they said in his business), he had a pretty good inkling of why; the snippets of conversation he heard on his trips between the kitchen and the dining room only cemented his suspicions.

“Let’s hope the theatre isn’t too packed tonight,” Becky told Scafe. “I’ll be damned if we miss _La La Land_ AGAIN because someone beat us to it…”

“ _You want_ roses? _Seriously? …What, planning to eat ‘em agai- OWW!!_ ” Zeus’s snark at Emily’s expense prompted Brian to smack his hand-mouth with the handle of his butterknife.

“…Hey, they’re not _that_ bad…once you get past the thorns and all,” Amethyst added nonchalantly. “…At least, that’s what Gabey tells me~” She tittered lightly as her brother nearly choked on his orange juice, barely forcing it down before sputtering out a cry of “S-S-Sis!”

 _Aahhh… love. Truly the best seasoning of all~_ Chervil’s airy thoughts were interrupted when he nearly ran into Isaac, who deftly sidestepped him to avoid a collision.

“Focus, Che. You wouldn’t want to put all that good food to waste, would you?” Isaac snarked with a slight smile; as always, he was one of the first members of the group to finish his meal.

“Certainly not; otherwise, I’d be using your medical ward for permanent accommodations.” The ferret smiled back despite his dark joke. “May I get you anything, Isaac…perhaps an artfully-arranged plate for dear Izza? I know she doesn’t _need_ to eat, but I think the gesture would be appreciated when she returns.” He was already visualizing the optimal platter as he spoke.

“I’ll owe you for that. Hopefully, my gift to you will suffice.” In his last excursion to Neo-Tokyo, Isaac had bought a pack of knives that he was assured would never dull, no matter what was done to them. He had been saving them for this very day, pondering if he should present them before or after mealtime; the former gave Chervil the chance to try them out, but ran the risk of distracting him with glee.

“Perish the thought!” Chervil chortled. “A chef’s reward is his satisfied patrons - so long as you all have full bellies, titillated taste buds and a word of appreciation for my work, I couldn’t be happier.”

“Oh, I don’t mean a gift as a _chef,_ Che~” Isaac’s smirk made his intentions quite clear to the ferret, bringing a light blush to his brown-furred cheeks.

“Ah…ah-ah, doctor. Not until _after_ work.” A brief wink was the only crack in Chervil’s professional demeanor as he all but glided back into the kitchen. Isaac watched until the tip of the chef’s tail had slid out of sight before resuming his path towards the exit.

“Yo, doc! Where ya goin’?” called Matt. “Don’t tell me you’re done already - it’s a special day, y’know!”

“I know, but I must get back to work. You never know when someone’s going to come in with something broken from…ahem… _accidents._ ” His glance briefly flicked towards Dante and Zs, who looked back when the latter felt his eyes on them. “…For the sake of _my_ health, please stop ‘goofing off’. I may have to refer you to someone else if I have to keep resetting your bones, Dante.”

“FUCK YOU, DOC - I’M IMMORTAL!!!” Dante’s defiant bellow was accompanied by a silent middle finger from Zs, prompting an unamused look from Irene; on the other hand, Isaac merely sighed.

“…Then again, you keep my skills sharp, so…as long as you don’t mind being a guinea pig, I guess it’s alright. At any rate, you all know where to find me - cheers, and happy Valentine’s Day.” With a simple wave, he left the room, heading for the stairs to his office.

To her credit, Emily waited until Isaac was out of earshot before asking, “Holy hell… Does he _ever_ take a break?”

“Look where he is,” Irene muttered. “Can you blame him for constantly working when he has _us_ idiots to watch over?”

“No sane doctor would do his job with you chucklefucks constantly piling on the work.” Tsuneo shook his head, glad his own regenerative abilities precluded a need for medical attention. “But be glad Isaac sees challenge instead of work when dealing with our myriad wounded.”

“Yes…his mindset’s quite admirable. I can see how he found such success in his field.” Pitchmaw nodded sagely from his seat near Tavo, folding a wing in front of his face as he took a bite of his omelette. “However, I assume that Miss Naami will do her level best to distract him once she returns from her expedition.”

“How do you think her expedition went, anyway?” asked Tavo.

“Dunno,” Bea replied. “Depends on how much she finds, and whether she runs into trouble along the way. I’d bet that she won’t be back ‘till she’s either bored or finds something _really_ interesting.”

“…In which case she’ll be nagging our ears off, trying to show it to us,” Coco added. “Good thing we’re going out for the day.”

“I’m getting laid~!” Tavo beamed, only to be cut short when both Bea and Coco glared at him. “I-I-I mean, uh…um…!! HOLY SHIT, PITCHMAW - WHEN DID YOUR BOSS GET HERE!?” He pointed dramatically behind the resident Bunker agent before nearly falling on his face in his haste to abandon the table.

“Wow Tavo, you _suck_ at getting outta things.” JoJo pointed out the obvious as Tavo raced from the room with Bea and Coco following close behind. The rest of the group showed varying levels of exasperation and amusement before returning to their individual conversations.

 _Looks like things are running pretty smoothly,_ Irene thought with a small smile. _Maybe nothing bad’ll happen and I’ll finally get laid tonight~ Hopefully,_ nothing _goes wrong with tonight…?_ Her thoughts trailed off when she noticed Brian giving her a strangely intense look. “…Something up, Bunny Butt?”

“Irene…be straight with me here.” Brian sucked a breath through his nose before regarding his fire-slinging friend suspiciously. “…Did you just mentally invoke…an **Accursed Sentence?** ”

“………No!” Even as she said it, Irene realized that her wings had turned sheet-white. _Ah fuck, here it comes…_

“ _AAAAACCURSED SENTEEEENNNNCE!!!_ ” Zeus released an ear-piercing howl as Brian used his other arm to point accusingly at Irene. Moments later, the screech turned into a litany of bizarre curses as a small animatronic rabbit fell from the ceiling and landed squarely on the hybrid’s head.

“Just another morning at the Crimson Society, eh?” Max chuckled as Emily moved to help pull Tsuneo’s Pocket Springtrap off of her flailing boyfriend’s face.

Irene could only mutter “…I need a fucking drink.” as she rested her head on the table.


	2. Rising Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter where things start to go bad.

## Part 2: Rising Heat

“Ooh…this one’s a real nice…uh…what _is_ this contraption?” Izza quirked her head to one side as she scrutinized the object in her hands; a strange mass of gears and screws that somehow kept their shape despite no apparent connectors. “…Doodad? …Whatzit? …Thingamajig? …Yeah, let’s go with ‘thingamajig’ for now.” She stuffed it into her coat before taking a moment to look around.

So far, her latest “magical treasure hunt” had been a rousing success; she had found a whole assortment of interesting artifacts to study and/or show her friends back home. However, she was starting to feel restless, as if she couldn’t stand still for more than a few seconds. That was fairly normal for her…but the same couldn’t be said for the odd, unpleasant tingling that accompanied her discomfort.

“Maybe I should’ve left that spider bite for Isaac to see,” she muttered to herself. “Better call it a day for now…” She drew a wand and teleported herself most of the way to the Warp Pad, covering the rest of the distance with a brisk jog before hopping aboard and pushing the big red “return” button.

“Express flight to Society HQ ready for takeoff - aaand landing~!” In a literal flash, Izza found herself staring at the inside of the Society’s teleporter room. Normally, she’d be relieved, exuberant, and ready to kick up her heels after a job well done…but today, she could only focus on her unusual agitation, growing in tandem with the tingling that seemed to be spreading through her entire body.

 _Alright, this is…_ definitely _not normal…maybe I should page Doctor Hubby…?_ Izza shook off the idea when she exited the teleporter room, hearing the distant bustle of her friends. _From the sound of it, breakfast’s over…which means that he’s probably up in his office, working his cute ass off…as usual. Hope he doesn’t mind an early patient~_ Her cheery thoughts contrasted her purposeful expression as she strode down the hall, heading for the medical ward. 

“Ah, good morning, Miss Naami.” To the chaotimancer’s dismay, Pitchmaw was the first person she met. “How was your excursion today? Did you run into any trouble? Have you found any particularly interesting…thingamajigs?”

“Fine, nope, and I’ll show ya later,” Izza replied brusquely, looking for a way to squeeze past the resident Node agent. “D’you mind, ‘Maw? I’m…in a rush here.”

“Ah, of course. My apologies.” Although Pitchmaw stepped aside to let Izza continue onward, he started following in her wake. “If I may…are you feeling well, Miss Naami?”

“Uhh…why d’you ask?” Amid her growing discomfort as the tingling rose to a prickle, the undead magician needed a moment to remember that Pitchmaw was basically a walking scanner. “Don’tcha know it’s _rude_ to check a girl out without permission?”

“I assure you, it’s strictly professional…especially since something’s just come up.” The barest ghost of a frown tugged at the corners of Pitchmaw’s mouth. “You’re exhibiting signs of serious physical agitation; nerve responses are at 140 percent and climbing, core temperature is approaching normal human levels…and I’m picking up traces of anxiety in your Negavore readings. If you’d just allow me to take a sample or two, I could-” His offer was interrupted by a loud “SPLUT!”, courtesy of the Arcane Laser that blew a sizable hole in his face. 

“If I need a dissection, I’ll ASK for it, thanks!” Izza wiped a few stray drops of dark blue sludge off of her face as she snapped at Pitchmaw. “Just BACK OFF already - I’m going to see a _professional!_ ” Leaving the Bunker agent to regenerate the damage, she resumed her path towards the medical ward…only to run into _another_ living roadblock.

“HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY, IZZIE!” B.Nana punctuated her exuberant shout by throwing a handful of colorful leaves over Izza’s head.

“ _Not_ …in the mood…Brittany!” The shorter woman growled through gritted teeth; the unpleasant feelings running through her had redoubled after her encounter with Pitchmaw.

“Gee, that’s _nice!_ ” Amethyst snarked as she came around the same corner as B.Nana. “D’you have any idea how long she’s been staking out this corner, waiting for someone to greet?”

“Ten whole minutes!” B.Nana chimed in, too enthused to notice Izza’s tense demeanor. “With everyone else gettin’ their love on, I figured that I should get in on the fun…but most everyone’s gone their own way for V-Day! Sooo…I decided that I was just gonna hide around a random spot and ask the next person to come by if they wanted to celebrate with me!”

“Before you ask, she didn’t get me with the flower routine,” Amethyst added. “I came ‘round the _other_ corner and thought I’d stick around - scare off the folks who Nana’d probably _not_ wanna bang.” She gave a series of coughs that sounded rather like “Cipher”, “Gabe,” and “Pitchmaw”, but paused when she noticed Izza shifting in place, looking more restless by the second. “Uhh…y’okay, Izza? You look kinda hot and bothered…and not in the _good_ way!”

“Omigod, don’t tell me…I interrupted something important!” B.Nana’s eyes widened as she clapped her hands to her mouth. “I’m _so_ sorry, Izzie! I didn’t mean to get in your way when you, uh…when you’re……err…what _are_ ya doin’, anyway?”

Part of Izza desperately wanted to push past the other two women and continue towards her destination, but respect for her friends drove her to explain the situation. “Somethin’ bit me down there in the Underground; I couldn’t tell what it was, but it was a spider…welted up fast, so I blew the bite to pieces, regenerated over it…” The longer she went on, the faster and louder her voice became. “The venom shouldn’t affect me, but apparently it might be, so Imma see Isaac about that - _now if you **don’t mind-!**_ ”

In a sudden surge of frustration, Izza pushed past the pair with more force than she had intended, throwing them into opposite walls of the hallway. As she continued onwards, practically running at this point, Amethyst felt the sweat on her torso where Izza’s hand had made contact before exchanging glances with an equally stunned B.Nana. The outburst and the force of the subsequent push told them everything they needed to know; Izza was in a needier state than they’d ever seen her.

“Welp, Isaac’s screwed,” Amethyst muttered as she watched Izza storm off. “ _Literally_.”

“Ooh boy…” B.Nana audibly gulped. “I hope he can patch up his own bruises, ‘cause I think Izzie’s in the mood to play _rough_.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

“Iiiiisssssaaaaaaacccc…!”

The plaintive cry made Isaac look up from the papers he was perusing. “Izza? Is that yo-” He blinked in surprise as the door was nearly kicked off its hinges, announcing the arrival of a completely flustered Izza. Her face was flushed, her expression was borderline manic, and the green paint covering her skin was visibly streaked by sweat. If he didn’t know better, Isaac would’ve thought she’d just run a marathon from the mansion to Neo-Tokyo and back.

“…What the hell happened to you-” Once again, his query was interrupted as Izza all but sprinted towards him, slamming both hands on his desk with enough force to vibrate everything on top of it - including a large platter of fruit that Chervil had arranged into an elaborate winged heart shape.

“Wizard’s Dump…spider…bit me.” Izza could barely manage that much in between her desperate (and superfluous) gasps for breath. “Feelin’ funny…need help…”

“O-of course.” As usual for emergency situations, Isaac calmed himself by letting his medical training take the fore. “Let me see the bite so I can figure out how to treat-” For the third time in the last twenty-odd seconds, he was interrupted; this time, by Izza literally vaulting his desk to pounce on him. “Good lord, Izza - what kind of spider bit you!?”

“Dunno…don’t care…” The chaotimancer’s expression somehow managed to look pained and predatory at the same time. “Isaac…help me. _Please._ ”

“And you can’t even…describe it…for me?” Isaac was trying to stay professional and focus on the issue - if Izza was panicking, it _had_ to be serious - but seeing the undead girl like this was making it difficult. Her usual playful composure was utterly shattered, leaving only desperate, primal _need._

“Numb…all through…my arm…rest of me…burning up…from…inside…… _it hurts_ …” Izza’s description refocused Isaac on her unknown affliction. A living corpse’s body was usually close to the air temperature; the heat radiating from Izza’s body was anything but. And while numbness to pain was par for the course, if she couldn’t feel _anything_ …

Yet again, Isaac’s train of thought was derailed, this time by Izza practically falling on top of him. Another round of unhelpful mental images surfaced in his mind as he felt her body pressing into his, sweat soaking through his waistcoat…but his girlfriend’s next words immediately drew all of his attention.

“Isaac……it hurts…” Izza sounded on the verge of tears by this point. “…Burning…I-I’m burning up…can’t s-s-stop it……help me…” She trailed off into choked sobs, making her whole body shudder against Isaac’s…and then he finally understood.

The “burning” she was talking about was a real, _tangible_ sensation, at its worst between her legs. Her natural lubricants had soaked right through her pants, as if trying and failing to put out the most intense fire she’d ever had to deal with.

Immediately, Isaac knew what he had to do. _Gods help me…_ He tentatively placed his hands on Izza’s back, rubbing gentle circles as he said, “It’s…it’s alright, Izza; I’m here for you. I’m going to help you. I’m here.”

Amid the muffling presence of his shirt, he could just barely hear the reply: “Th…thank you.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

Pitchmaw took about sixty-four seconds to regenerate the damage to his face, which was fairly slow by his standards. It was partly because of relatively low negativity levels in the HQ, as well as a lack of imminent problems to address, but it was mostly because he was occupied with the way he had been injured in the first place.

 _That was…unexpectedly violent, even for Miss Naami._ The Carnage Cartographer was no stranger to abuse from his peers - he even _encouraged_ them to hit him as a means of venting stress - and Izza in particular took every opportunity to slap, kick, suplex, and blast him. Requesting samples from her was more than sufficient reason…but immediately jumping to a spell of such intensity seemed excessive, even by her standards.

There was also the matter of the abnormal readings he had detected from Izza. _It appears that she’s experiencing significant physical stimulation…but why? She was quite anxious about it, so I doubt that it was intentional or self-inflicted…still, that doesn’t narrow things down all that much. Considering the site of her excursion, just about_ anything _could have happened…_ He frowned as his face finally finished reconstructing itself, allowing his visor to slide back in place over his eerie eyes. _There’s too many variables…I need to investigate this further._

With that in mind, Pitchmaw began walking towards the medical ward, only to come across Amethyst and B.Nana, deep in discussion about something. “Ahem…” His polite cough made both women visibly start and turn to face him. “Pardon the interruption, but if I may…would either of you happen to have seen Miss Naami a moment ago?”

“Seen her…? _Seen_ her?!” Amethyst’s laugh was short, sharp, and incredulous. “She gave us both an impromptu speed-date with the walls and stomped off without so much as a ‘sorry’! How’s _that_ for Valentine’s Day cheer?”

“She seemed really stressed about something,” B.Nana mused. “I think she needs to vent; can you let her take a few swings at you, ‘Maw?”

“Well, destroying 28.9123 percent of my face didn’t seem to help at all.” Pitchmaw recited the injury with all the emotion of a man painting the fence. “I have reason to believe that Miss Naami may be unwell…did she tell you anything about her morning excursion?”

“Weeell…now that you mention it,” B.Nana began, “she said she got nommed by a spider in the Wizard’s Dump. Blew off the bitten part and let her healing factor fix her up, but now she’s feelin’ kinda weird…”

“…and went to Dr. Williams for a diagnosis,” Pitchmaw finished the banana-woman’s sentence with a small nod. “Hm…that makes sense. Perhaps I should consult with…” He trailed off as his visor glowed slightly. “Hm? How odd……I’m sorry, Miss Hart, but you _did_ say that Miss Naami pushed you and Miss Nana, correct?”

“More like ‘ _tried to make new doors in the hallway with our bodies_ ’…but yeah.” Amethyst quirked an eyebrow at the out-of-the-blue query. “Why do you ask?”

Pitchmaw was silent for a few seconds as he debated whether or not to share his new suspicions, eventually concluding that it was too early to jump to conclusions. “Personal curiosity,” he said at last. “I just had a small hunch about Miss Naami’s distress, but I’ll need much more evidence before I can make any certain claims.” He nodded at the women before turning around and taking out his notepad. “Enjoy the rest of your day, Misses Hart and Nana…and try not to overexert yourselves.” With that cryptic advice, he vanished in a flash of dark lightning, leaving Amethyst and B.Nana to exchange bewildered looks.

“What the fig was _that_ all about?” the latter wondered, getting a shrug in return.

“Dunno, probably just ‘Maw being his usual creepy self. If anything big comes up, I’m sure he’ll let us know~” Amethyst let out a long, slow breath before fanning herself with a hand. “Phew…it’s been years since we’ve met, and that inky data nut _still_ stresses me out. What say we get some drinks~?”

“Ooh, good idea!” B.Nana cried. “I could use a nice tall glass of fruit punch right now!” She idly scratched her chest as she followed Amethyst to the kitchen, paying little mind to the fact that it was the very spot where Izza had pushed her.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

For once, the Society’s medical ward was closed for business, as indicated by the massive golem guarding the entrance. Although the hulking construct of rock and plant matter was an imposing deterrent as is, the layer of vines it had summoned over the door accentuated its point: _No access allowed._ It seemed rather excessive at a glance, but the sounds of moaning, gasping, and the occasional grunt provided ample reason for Isaac’s caution.

Inside the ward, the doctor was wiping off his brow with one hand and working his magic with the other. After a moment, he stopped and pulled his still-sweaty girlfriend into his arms.

“Better?” His question was answered with the barest of nods. “Good. Glad I could help.” Flexing his fingers to get some feeling back into them, he headed to the sink to wash his hands. “So, you said this was brought on by a spider bite, yes? Do you remember anything about the spider itself; any identifying marks?”

“Not really…” Izza replied in a murmured slur, clearly still out of it as she set to work refastening the bandages around her chest. “Just a tiny, white-and-pink peppermint with legs and fangs…”

“White and pink…peppermint?” After drying his freshly-cleaned hands on a nearby cloth, Isaac returned to his desk, picked a notepad from the clutter, and began jotting down what details he could about Izza’s condition. “Never heard of a spider with that kind of coloration…but then again, this is the Nexus. Maybe you should ask Gideon or Hanna about this; they probably know more about arachnobiology than me.” He looked up at his girlfriend as she finished adjusting her sarashi and got to her feet, still looking a bit unsteady.

“Are you still unwell? Maybe you should stay a while longer while I give you a, uh…proper diagnosis.” He mentally cursed the audible tremor in his voice; clearly, his “emergency solution” to Izza’s problem still had him shaken.

“I… I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.” The undead witch hoped that she sounded and looked more confident than she felt; Isaac’s ministrations had quelled the burning, but she still felt abnormally on-edge. “I think…I just need to walk it off. I’ll…see you later, Isaac. Don’t work too hard, now~”

 _Well, her sense of humor is intact, if nothing else._ Isaac allowed himself one unprofessional eye roll before mentally signalling his golem to dispel its vine wall, allowing Izza to leave the medical ward. Once the door had closed behind her, he sat in silence for a moment before sending a new command to the golem. _Shadow her as closely as you can without being seen. If she begins relapsing or shows any other abnormal symptoms, bring her back here._

The dull rumble of heavy footsteps faded from the door as Isaac looked back at the scant list before him. “Not much to go on…” he sighed. “I’ll need to consult with the others, but first…” His gaze swept the floor around his desk, scanning the scattered items until he saw the papers he was perusing before Izza’s unexpected arrival. As much as he wanted to immediately investigate the spider that had bitten Izza, his duties to the Society as a whole came first; and that meant making sure that he had everything he needed to treat any injuries, illnesses, or other maladies that arose throughout the day.

 _She isn’t in a critical state; she’ll be fine until I can get everything in order here…_ The thought sent a slight twinge of guilt through Isaac, but he ignored it; no doctor worth his license played favorites. And so he set about his morning rituals: checking inventory, organizing his devices, turning on a computer or two, and cleaning up the ward…especially the lingering signs of his work with the first patient of the day.

Once he was certain that everything was in order, he went to a bookshelf and picked out a hefty binder labelled “Venomous Wildlife on the Nexus, Vol. 1”. _It’s a long shot, but I have to start somewhere…_ He returned to his desk and opened the binder, flipping ahead to the “Arthropods” tab and the “Spiders” heading, but his attempt to read through the list was hampered by a sudden loss of feeling in his hand.

“That’s… unusual.” Isaac tried to flex his hand, but it refused to move. “Sudden paralysis?” Before he could ruminate further, the numbness was joined by similar (lack of) feelings in the rest of his extremities, quickly spreading up his limbs. As he sat back in his seat, fear rising as his body stiffened, he sent a new command to his golem. _Forget shadowing Izza. Find someone and bring them to me, before it’s too late!_

The mental ripple of his construct’s acknowledgement reached Isaac at the same time as the numbness consumed him. While he could still breathe and hear what was going on around him, he was blind, mute, and completely paralyzed in the chair; a brilliant mind trapped in a coffin of flesh, blood and bone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Poor Isaac. Only the Williams siblings would have that kind of luck.


	3. Girls Gone Wild

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The infection spreads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was at this point that my editor knew... he hated coming up with chapter titles. Me, I was too amused at the title to be upset.

## Part 3: Girls Gone Wild

“ _For fuck’s sake, where_ is _she?_ ” Zeus growled.

“She wants to look her best for our outing!” Brian chided. “Give the girl some time!”

“ _At this rate, V-Day’s gonna be_ over _by the time she’s ready!_ ” the Parasite retorted. “ _EMILY! HURRY THE FUCK UP BEFORE WE-_ ”

Brian hastily shushed his hand-mouth as footsteps were heard on the other side of the door; a moment later, it opened to reveal Emily wearing a sleeveless white turtleneck and a sleek black pencil skirt. “Alright, I’m ready to go…I think! Whaddya think, Brian? This good enough for a V-Day stroll downtown~?” She twirled in place to give her boyfriend a full view of her outfit, only to receive silence in return. “Uhh…Brian? DeadRams to Sarge; do you read?”

“Give him a moment, dear.” Athena’s hand-mouth smiled as Brian stared at the undead goat-girl, seemingly lost for words. “W...w-w- _wow!_ ” he said at last. “That’s…I’m…it’s…”

“ _I think what he’s trying to say is, ‘it’s perfect, Emily’._ ” Despite his snark, Zeus sounded genuinely impressed. “ _Alright then, let’s go. Those V-Day deals ain’t gonna buy themselves-_ ” He paused when a faint cry reached Brian’s ears, finally tearing his eyes from Emily to trace the sound.

“B..Bri-Bri…!” To the spider-bunny’s shock, B.Nana was making her way down the hall towards him and Emily, looking profoundly uncomfortable. She had unzipped her Banana Suit down to her collar, revealing sweat beading on her pale yellow head and neck. Her cheeks were dotted with two dark spots that could easily be mistaken for mild bruises; however, Brian knew that they were actually her equivalent of a flush. Going by that and the way she leaned a hand on the wall to support her quivering legs, the hybrid Councilman could tell that something was very wrong with the walking fruit.

“B.Nana! What happened?” Brian ran to his friend as Emily peered around the door frame.

“Bri-Bri…I…I don’t…feel…so good…” B.Nana barely managed that much before her legs gave out and she fell on her face with a muffled “Ow!” Her limbs jerked and twitched spasmodically, unintelligible cries escaping her as Brian knelt beside her.

“Oh my gods…what’s wrong with her!?” The hybrid shook his head at Emily’s called question, having no more answers than her. Suddenly, B.Nana’s convulsions came to a halt, leaving her perfectly still…but only for a moment. Brian was just about to call for help on his communicator when he heard the fruit-woman speak…rather, _sing_ …in a low voice.

“Do you want a banana…? Peel it down and go…MMM MMM MM MMMMMM…” B.Nana’s voice had an odd timbre as she began to rise, draining the color from Brian’s face as he suddenly recognized the tune.

“Ooooh…fignuts.” With unnatural calm, the spider-bunny glanced at Emily from the corner of his eye. “Em…the **Bad Banana** has been unleashed. Zeus and I will ‘distract’ her - you hide in your room, lock the door, and call the gang for backup.”

The Hostilized goat-woman’s eyes bulged in horror as she realized what that meant. “B-but, Brian!” she cried. “I can’t just _leave_ you here!”

“ _GO,_ DAMMIT!” Brian’s desperate tone left no room for argument as he put himself between Emily’s room and the rising banana-woman. He heard Emily gulp before her door slammed shut, leaving him to face down B.Nana as she finally straightened up.

“Do you want a banaaannnaaaaa~?” Her eyes snapped open, revealing blazing red irises in place of her usual green. “ **DICK BANANA FOR YOU!!!** ” She let out a crazed howl before leaping at Brian; a feral mockery of her normal happy glomp.

The hybrid Councilman’s unmanly screams of terror were perfectly audible through Emily’s door as the latter crouched on her bed, frantically dialling the Society’s island-wide broadcast frequency on her communicator. “Deadrams to Society; look alive, ‘cause we have a situation on the third floor! Brian’s down, and B.Nana needs her fix! I repeat, _B.Nana needs her fix!!!_ ”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

The panicked report rang throughout the mansion and its surrounding facilities, prompting various reactions of dismay, horror, and confusion from all who heard it, including Irene. With the third floor - and thus her shared bedroom with Tsuneo - blocked off by Emily’s “Bad Banana Alert”, Irene decided to go to the R&D labs in the mountains. She was just reaching the front door when Amethyst strode around a corner, looking rather distracted until she spotted Irene in turn. 

“Oh! Heya, girlfriend!” The cyborg goat-woman smiled just a bit too widely to be normal as she waved at the pyromancer. “What’cha doin’?”

“Not you,” Irene deadpanned, already seeing where this was going.

“Awww, what’s wrong, butter-tits~?” Amethyst leaned against the wall, rubbing a bit of sweat from her fur as she ran a hand up her half-covered torso. “Saving your appetite for your evening meal with-” Her innuendo turned into a yelp as she fell into a portal that opened beneath her.

“ _Fuck_ this fucking day.” Irene muttered as she stalked out the door. “Fuck Amy for trying to come on to me when I _really_ don’t need that, _fuck_ Tsuneo for putting me through this hell because he’s a trolling shit, and **fuck** everyone who’s actually getting some on this gods-forsaken **mockery of a holiday!** ” Too frustrated to walk the rest of the way, she portalled straight to her personal section of the lab, where several plans and half-finished projects awaited her attention.

_Maybe I can work on that compound while I wait this damn day out. Or work on SAM. Depends on what’ll take my mind off of-_ Her thoughts came skidding to a halt when the lab was suddenly plunged into darkness. “……Oh, for **FUCK’S SAKE!!!** ” She winced in pain as her hand met the desk with a resounding slam. “I’m gonna _kick someone’s ass_ over this!”

Using a fireball to light her way, she headed back to the entrance of the lab. “Maybe Gabe can find out what caused the blackout.” She decided to walk the whole way this time, in hopes of cooling her temper; she might accidentally scare the goatling to death if she met him as she was. Once she felt calm enough to speak without sounding ready to give someone third-degree burns, she thumbed her communicator and called Gabe.

“Hey, Gabe, it’s Irene; I’ve got a problem. Did you notice- say what? …… Power’s out _across the HQ?_ Ffffffuck……any idea what caused it? …… No, huh? …Alright, I’ll meet you in the power room; I’ve been reading up on generator design, so I might be able to help you out. ……Got it. See you there, kid; Irene out.” She pocketed the communicator before opening the front door. “Well, that’s just _perfect._ As if this day can’t get any wor- _holy fuck!_ ”

The moment the door swung open, Irene was knocked to the ground by a veritable blur of a person. Momentarily stunned, she made eyes appear on her wings, allowing her to see who had tackled her.

“…Izza, what the _fuck_ has gotten into you?” Irene cried out as the eyes disappeared and she collected herself. She tried to get up, but the weight holding her down was greater than expected; Izza’s grip was a vise as she trembled like a child scared of monsters in the closet. “Let me repeat myself: What the _fuck,_ Izza?!”

“Hiya, firebrand.” Irene’s face and wings went pale as she pondered what scared her more; the shockingly lucid tone of Izza’s voice, or the hint of scorching lust and desperation bubbling behind it. “Something’s…really going on with me today. Your brother couldn’t touch it; I d-don’t think _anyone_ can…I…I _need_ your help, Irene. You’re smart about the…unusual goings-on here in the Nexus, more than your bro…y-you gotta know somethin’, right? **…RIGHT!?** ” Her voice rose to a roar as she repeated the last word in Irene’s face.

“Oh…shit.” Deciding that shoving was getting her nowhere, Irene opted for a portal drop to separate them both via a hard landing on the floor of the Society lounge. She got back up and attempted to run, only pausing to notice _something_ on Izza’s stomach.

_Is that…an hourglass made of hearts on her? Almost like…!_ “Nope, I do _not_ need this today. Not helping you, Izza; _get-the- **hell** -away-from-me!!!_” With that rapid-fire shriek, Irene shoved Izza through another portal; once it closed, she fought a sudden urge to collapse under the weight of her accumulated stresses.

“Fuck this day. Fuck this day. **Fuck** this fucking day. …I need a drink.” Irene turned towards the kitchen…and found herself staring at a wall of vines and rock. She barely had time to recognize it as one of her brother’s golems before it threw her over its shoulder and charged towards the medical ward.

Irene had only one thought in response to the umpteenth surprise in a single morning: _I have a_ bad _feeling about this…_

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

Tim was enjoying a novel in the lounge when the warning about B.Nana came in. _Hmm…that’s unfortunate. Best stay well clear of the third floor for the_ time _being._ He chuckled at his favorite pun and returned to his book…for about fifteen seconds before a brief _woosh_ sounded behind him, followed by a yelp and a thud.

“Oww…way to be a fuckin’ _killjoy,_ Irene!” Amethyst shook her fist at the closing portal before getting to her feet and dusting herself off. “Nothin’ wrong with a little goat appetizer before the main course…” She glanced around, taking in her surroundings before spotting her fellow Society member. “Heyyyy, Tim~ Whatcha doin’~?”

“As of now…resolving to keep clear of the third floor until Brittany’s done with poor Brian.” Tim chuckled more wryly as he imagined the things B.Nana was doing to the spider-bunny. “If you’re referring to _before_ the announcement…I was enjoying some literature appropriate to this _time_ of year.” He idly tilted the book in his hand over his shoulder so Amethyst could see it. “ _The Pillars of the Earth_ by Ken Follett; a fine tale of many subjects…including love surviving the worst of the Anarchy Era.”

“Oh yes, _fascinating_ ~” Amethyst snarked. “C’mon, Timmy, don’t tell me you haven’t found a nice girl to spend V-Day with? Ladies love a man in a suit…maybe not the cravat, but who am I to judge~?” She laid a metallic hand on the back of the chair, right next to Tim’s head. “Hey, speakin’ of pillars…what say we _erect_ one together, you an’ me~?”

“Come now, Amethyst; you mean to imply that you couldn’t find a suitable partner to… _ride out_ the day with?” Tim’s punny reversal of Amethyst’s earlier question only prompted her to grab the back of the chair with her other hand, using it as a stand to lean on as she brought her face down to the anthropomorphic pony’s level.

“I see a perfectly fine partner right here~” she purred. “Cravat or no, I’d sure like to see that suit up close…before I _tear it off~_ ” She leaned in on the last phrase, letting Tim feel the heat of her breath on his ear.

“I’d rather you _not_ do that, thank you very much.” A hint of annoyance crept into Tim’s tone as Amethyst failed to take the hint. “Shouldn’t you save that sort of talk for dear Cipher?”

“I _would_ , if I could _fiiind_ hiimmm…” Amethyst’s drawn-out whine was frustration incarnate. “ _C’moooon,_ Tim! I’m practically melting from the inside-out here - can’t I just grind one out while you read?! I promise you’ll only be as distracted as _you_ wanna be~”

“ _No,_ Amethyst.” With his patience running thin, Tim opted to drop the pleasantries. “I’m perfectly content with my books at this _time_ ; if I require more physical entertainment, I’ll seek you out.” He let out a soft sigh of relief when Amethyst’s breath no longer tickled his ear; from the sound of her next words, she had straightened up once again.

“Alright, alright, I getcha. You’re having a one-pony storytime right now - I can get behind that.” Despite her verbal concession, Amethyst’s voice had a dangerous note that left Tim reaching for his stopwatch. “Speakin’ of stories…here’s a real _gripping_ one!”

Tim recognized the pun too late to evade the mechanical arms that grabbed him by the shoulders, forcibly toppling his chair as he was yanked out of it. With his gaze suddenly pointing skyward, Tim had the briefest glimpse of Amethyst’s magenta eyes, wide with primal madness, before she fell on his prone form, pinning him down with her own body as she grabbed at his belt…

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

“Isaac…I hope you’re okay.” Irene muttered the well-wishes like a holy mantra, focusing on the words and the feeling of the golem’s mossy shoulder on her skin as it came to a stop in front of the medical ward. The Society’s Fervent Flame barely waited for the golem to place her down and step aside before she forced the door open with judicious application of her boot.

“Isaac, why did your…golem…” She trailed off as she saw her brother sitting in his favorite chair, eyes closed and body completely still. “No…” Time stopped as she stumbled forward, tears welling in her eyes as she searched desperately for any sign of life…to no avail. Realization crashing down like a hammer on her heart, Irene took in a long, shaky breath before unleashing a lifetime’s worth of anger, grief, and horror in a single, piercing scream that could probably be heard across the Nexus.

When her breath failed her at last, the Fire Queen slumped on Isaac’s desk, staining it with her tears. “……Oh gods, _why?_ ” She climbed over the desk and wrapped her arms around her brother, intending to cry on him…but her sobs turned into a gasp when she felt a pulse.

_He’s alive! HE’S ALIVE…but why is he stuck like this…?_ An awful suspicion came to her as she patted her brother’s stomach. “Forgive me, but I have to know.” She undid just enough of Isaac’s waistcoat and shirt to see his bare stomach; sure enough, there was a bright red hourglass made of hearts branded on his skin.

“Are you kidding me. Why did I have to be right.” Horror had taken root in Irene’s heart, but her voice was only a dull drone as she noted the open binder on the desk. Gently shifting the chair with her paralyzed brother aside, she flipped through a couple of pages, cringing all the way as each page greeted her with horribly detailed photos of arachnids. Finally, she saw another instance of the marking on Isaac and Izza’s stomachs, adorning the abdomen of a small, pink-and-white spider.

“Wow, I _really_ hate being right.” Irene resisted the temptation to snap the binder shut as she noticed a scrap of paper beside it, bearing Isaac’s notes on Izza’s condition. “I need to warn everyone; it’s not just B.Nana we need to worry about.” Grabbing her communicator, she set it to the frequency of the island and called out, “Fervent Flame to the Society; I need the Councilmen to the Medical Ward. I repeat, I need the Councilmen to the Medical Ward ASAP. And whatever you do, _stay away from your girls_ …or any other woman here, for that matter. It’s not just B.Nana who’s needing a fix.” Ending the communication, she took another shaky breath before flopping on a nearby cot, closing her eyes and wishing this was all a horrible dream.

_Gods, I_ hate _Valentine’s Day._

Irene’s eyes opened when she heard footsteps rushing through the open door of the medical ward. Sitting up, she saw Max, Tsuneo, and Scafe…but no Brian. “Lemme guess,” she deadpanned. “He’s still dealing with B.Nana?”

 

“Nope,” Scafe answered. “The sex-crazed banana-chick came down to start wreaking havoc on the second floor; last I saw her, _somebody_ chained her to the bar~” He allowed himself a smirk before refocusing on Irene’s question. “Knowing Brian, he’s trying to get Emily to give him a ‘recovery Grape Soda’ or ten before he even _thinks_ of moving.”

“…Or he’s like Isaac and _can’t_ move.” Irene waved a hand over towards her brother before facing the Councilmen. “So, who here knows about spiders and anti-venom? I’m almost certain that we’re dealing with the bite of a particularly weird member of the Black Widow family.”

 

“Unfortunately, our best bet is probably incapacitated on the third floor,” Max commented. “If we can’t reach Brian…perhaps his brother or his female counterpart might be an option?”

“Doubtful.” Tsuneo shook his head. “If it was merely a toxicity issue, Brian would be here right now. He’s immune to toxins of all kinds; this smacks of something worse. _Magically_ worse.” 

“That doesn’t bode well,” Max said. “If this _is_ some sort of magically-enhanced toxin, not even _you’re _safe; you have no magic resistance at all.”__

__The Councilmen continued debating over who else could be infected and how to combat the growing crisis, but Irene tuned the conversation out as the room began to feel stifling. She fanned herself and crossed her legs as a slight tingle ran through her…and then realization hit. _Aw crap._ She slightly lifted up her shirt, squinting past her ample chest to her stomach; despite the limited view, she couldn’t see a mark on her…yet. “Um…Tsuneo? Hun?” she piped up. “May I… may I talk to you in private? Please?”_ _

__“Of course.” The Neverdead knew from the pleading tone that something serious was up. “You two, keep discussing; my girl needs me.” With a gesture to his peers, he followed Irene over to the far side of the room; once she was sure no one but Tsuneo was listening, she began without preamble._ _

__“Hun…I think I’ve caught whatever’s affecting Isaac. Judging by how they’re apparently acting, B.Nana, Amethyst, and Izza are also infected; I don’t know who else they’ve gotten to, but if I join them…” She trailed off as the horrific scenario unfolded in her mind. “Tsuneo, _promise me_ that you won’t let me infect anyone else. _Please._ ” Her eyes watered as Tsuneo backed up a few steps, giving a silent nod. “I don’t know, tie me to the bed if you have to. I just don’t wanna put anyone else in danger.”_ _

__“The problem there is your portals; you’d just teleport out of your own binds.” Tsuneo rubbed his chin in thought. “I’d need some way to prevent that from happening.”_ _

__“You’re a strategist, hun. I know you’ll figure out a way to deal with me and my magic-!!” Irene’s reassurance turned into a gasp as her wings flooded with pink. “ _Run, you fooooohahahahaHAHAHAAAAA!!!_ ” Her desperate cry mutated into a manic cackle as the hourglass mark appeared on her stomach beneath her shirt._ _

__Recognizing the signal of those colors, Tsuneo turned to his fellow Councilmen with an Anarchy Carver in hand. “CHEESE IT TO THE ROOF AND RUN FOR R &D, **ON THE DOUBLE!!!** ” Using the momentum of his turn, he swung his weapon their way, releasing a massive gust that blew Max and Scafe out of the room. Tsuneo came full circle just in time to catch the pouncing pyromancer against the flat of his weapon. Using his free hand, he tapped his earpiece and roared in his most commanding tone._ _

__“Neverdead to Society! All personnel are advised to make their way to the R &D Labs!” Even as he gave his orders, the undead warrior fended off his lust-corrupted lover without missing a beat. “All female members, pay close attention to your body temperatures; males, look for signs of debilitation in the limbs! _Everyone_ watch for an Hourglass of Hearts on the stomach; that’s a mark of infection! Don’t stop to question; **_RUN FOR YOUR FUCKING LIVES!!!_** ” _ _

__With his announcement completed, Tsuneo threw his arms open and tackled Irene into the wall, trying to pin her down as he promised. Alas, Irene wasn’t having it; she opened a portal behind her and let Tsuneo push them both in, dropping them into their room._ _

__“You’re paying for this entire day, _you asshole!_ ” She managed to tear her boyfriend’s jacket open before he threw her against the headboard of their bed. Hardly missing a beat, Irene tried another pounce; when Tsuneo dodged to the side, she simply flew through a portal and pinned him to the ground on her second pass. “You hear me? I’m making you pay for _every single hour_ you had me wait today!!”_ _

__“Oh, for gods’ sake…” Tsuneo braced himself as his mask was snatched away and tossed out the window before Irene caught him into a ferocious liplock, desperately clawing at his pants with her free hand. _It’s up to the rest of you now…__ _

__\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_ _

__Following Tsuneo’s orders had proven much more difficult than the Society had initially suspected. Their attempts to escape through the front door had been quickly stymied by Amethyst pouncing on Emily, between her manic screams about “trying out bladeplay” and the potential for another threat imminent, everyone fled upstairs posthaste. Without sizable windows on the second and third floors, their new goal was to get to the roof and use the fire escapes; if all else failed, they could use the _Ruby Revenant_._ _

__Unfortunately, B.Nana managed to break out of Scafe’s chain trap as the uninfected were ascending the stairs. Maddened by her confinement, she went into a frenzy of bombing, hurling explosive fruits at everything in sight…including the access to the roof. With no other options, the Society folk had taken cover in the War Room, narrowly making it inside and barricading the entrance without losing anyone else…but they soon discovered another problem complicating their escape plans from the other side._ _

__“Oh bugger, look at _that_ …” Max’s call brought his friends to the window, where they could see barrages of magic bolts flying out of the woodlands on the other side of the island. Already they could see crazy stuff happening; all kinds of wildlife (natural and unnatural) fleeing in abject terror, giant coniferous trees made of candy, spouts of blood rocketing several feet over the treeline, and rubber depth charges that exploded into showers of common rubber ducks and echoing shouts of “BONUS DUCKS”._ _

__“Looks like someone _pissed Izza right off_ out there…” Scafe shook his head before turning to regard the group in the War Room. Aside from himself and Max, he saw Becky, Zuula, Gabe, Gideon, Juliet, Hanna, Matt, and Chervil. “Hopefully, that’s not gonna interfere with our _backup_ backup plan.”_ _

__On cue, the dragon’s communicator buzzed. “Cipher calling Society. Come in, Society…mind tellin’ me what the actual _hell_ is going on?” The monotonous voice paused as the feed briefly rattled with static. “I'm picking up a large amount of magical discharge from Tide’s Bastion and it looks like the power’s out. Please respond.”_ _

__“Cipher, this is Not-So-Hellspawn!” Scafe answered. “Don’t ask me how, but we’ve got some kind of freaky magical-spider-venom-plague goin’ around; it turns ladies into bloodthirsty sex fiends and men into living statues! We’re pinned down in the War Room and need an extraction; can you assist?”_ _

__There was a long pause over the line before the feline responded. “Have you identified any infection vectors? How is it spread, and what should I look out for before I'm in range? Last thing I want is to get shot down miles from land.”_ _

__“From what little we’ve seen, it seems to be some sort of contact-based transfer,” Max answered. “As for symptoms, the big one is a marking on the stomachs of the afflicted; looks like an hourglass made of two red hearts. According to Irene and Isaac’s notes, it matches the marking on a small spider with vibrant pink and white stripes.” He paused to wonder if he should bother asking the cat if he knew anything about such a creature, but decided against it as Scafe resumed the exposition._ _

__“Like I said, the big problem’s the women - if they’re infected, they’ll do their damnedest to fuck you silly and rip you to pieces…not necessarily in that order! We’ve confirmed Amethyst, B.Nana, Emily, Izza, and Irene as infected on that front; Tsuneo’s dealing with the latter and Emily should be docile for now, but the cyber-goat and the fruit-chick are stalking the mansion as we speak, and the _other_ zombie…” He cringed as another colorful explosion rocked the island. “…Eeeyup…I think you can guess where _she_ is.” _ _

__“Can't say I've _ever_ been good with women, but covering my own ass is another story entirely.” As he spoke, the cat set his jet to autopilot and made ready for his drop-off point. “Do you want an immediate rendezvous, or do you need anything from anywhere in the mansion before I head for the War Room?”_ _

__“Just get here post-haste, and watch your back,” Max answered. “…If you have the chance, however, check for other casualties on our front. Aside from the women mentioned, we’ve lost Tim, Brian, and possibly Tsuneo: no sign of Pitchmaw, either. See if you can confirm their status, but make reaching us your priority; we could use every hand we can get.” He cringed slightly as another bang sounded from the other side of the door. “Watch yourself, Cipher; Amethyst’s been prowling the first floor, you’ll definitely see B.Nana on your way up…and we’re not sure when Emily’s going to become active, either.”_ _

__“Understood; I’ll proceed with caution. Expect me coming in loud through the front door in twenty.” With that, the communicators went silent, leaving the group to ponder._ _

__“So, we’re stuck in here until, what, the ladies tire themselves out?” Juliet asked._ _

__“Either that, or someone cures them. _How,_ I have no idea.” Scafe said._ _

__“There…could be _another_ option. A worst-case scenario…” Gideon said slowly. “If this affliction leaves men completely paralyzed and women in a constant state of violent lust…how are they to eat, drink, or rest? The body has its limits, and none of the infected are in a position to attend to them - if this continues too long, they could simply…shut down.”_ _

__The Society’s looks of horror were accentuated by a distant clamor and the sound of passing jet engines, followed by a growl on the other side of the door and the sound of quickly-retreating footsteps. The implication was clear; Jack had made his entrance._ _

__\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_ _

__The high-tech jet took a rolling swerve to evade an approaching volley of Chaos Bolts before aligning its course back towards the front lawn of the mansion. As it went for its pass, the bottom opened to allow Jack to drop out at a safe velocity before pulling up and back towards the sky, heading out of view near the mountain chain._ _

__Brushing himself off, the ex-mercenary gave his surroundings a quick check before concluding he had time to prepare his entrance and equipment. “…House full of wandering, sex-crazed lunatics with a decidedly unpleasant touch…yep, this is home, alright.” As he spoke, he retrieved a small metallic emblem from his belt before holding it to his collarbone, allowing it to latch on before holding out his arms._ _

__The device gave off a faint vibration as a steady stream of nanomachines began to pour out of it, slithering all across Jack’s body in condensed tendril-like formations before spreading out to completely envelop him. The tiny robots eventually settled to form durable mesh and armor plating; after his helmet had completely formed, the feline was greeted with several virtual readings of the area, including member proximity radar, vitals detection, and a steady stream of updates of his suit’s functionalities. “Alright, **A.B.B.I.** , let’s hope I worked out enough of your kinks to keep me from any impromptu one-night stands.”_ _

__Proceeding silently and carefully towards the front door, Cipher paused as his scanners alerted him to a presence approaching from the other side. _So much for the quiet route…_ Heaving a sigh, he pushed the door with a considerable bang before stepping inside, eyes sweeping the foyer for his soon to be aggressor._ _

__“Ahh, Jackie! _Just_ the man I wanted to see~” Amethyst’s voice rasped slightly as she stalked around the corner. “You’re just in time for the _party~!_ ”_ _

__“Ah, there ya are, Amy; been worried about you, all here by your lonesome on V-Day and whatnot,” Cipher called back nonchalantly even as he scrutinized the cyborg-goat woman. Even in his biased opinion, he could tell that she had seen much better days; her body was slick with sweat, her hair was even messier than normal, her breath came in pants, and both her stance and expression bordered on feral as she sized up the armored feline. “Ya look good; really diggin’ the ‘libido-driven lunatic’ vibe.”_ _

__“Ooh ho ho ho…didn’t know you were into roleplay, Jackie~” Amethyst’s giggle was even sicker than normal as she unfurled an arm blade. “Alrighty then…just call me Mistress _ **Can Opener~!**_ ” Her eyes flashed as she charged right at her “frenemy”, blade raised to cleave him in two._ _

__Jack dove into a roll with only milliseconds to spare before the she-goat’s plasma blade nearly left the front door sliced in two and a sizable gash in the floorboards. Keeping the distance between them manageable, the cat raised both hands in a playful manner. “Whoa ho, slow it down there, sweetie; what ever happened to proper courtship? A bad movie, little wine, playful nothings?”_ _

__Amethyst let out a breath more akin to that of a frustrated bull as she tore her arm blade out of the floor before turning to give the feline a demented grin. “Sounds like kids’ stuff, _especially_ when I’m already prepared for the ‘extra- _messy_ makeout’ section~!” She punctuated her remark by raising her other arm towards her target, bringing out her blaster before discharging several rounds that sent the man fleeing for cover. “ _WHAT’S THE MATTER, CIPHER?! NOT **MAN** ENOUGH FOR ME?!!_”_ _

__“Okay…! Not even banter is gonna slow Amy down; _not_ good.” Even as he flew down the hallway as fast as his legs would carry him, Jack’s display was clouded with alerts of nearby inactive bodies before displaying their location via heat signature; all alive and breathing, but none moving. “I’d help if I could, but I don't have the time!” He growled as he finally reached the stairway, taking them two at a time before he was on the second floor._ _

__“J- _Jack-o_!” The raspy cry of B.Nana came from down the left hallway as she rounded the corner and laid beady red eyes on him. “You look hungry… _I’ve got a banana for you~!_ I’m sure you’ll _love it_ …enough to want **seconds!** ” Her voice dropped to an almost demonic register with the last word._ _

__“Ah shit!” Jack shouted before booking it the other way, mind racing to set a destination. Finally, he settled one of the game rooms, shoulder-ramming the door open before slamming it back closed and forcing the nearest bits of bulky furniture against it before a series of powerful bangs began to emanate from the other side._ _

__Breathing heavily, Cipher backed away from the door, never letting his eyes stray from it as he reached up to activate his communicator. “Cipher to Society; I’m in the building-” He flinched as a particularly loud smash against the door sounded, seemingly doubling in intensity before he realized the opposition had just gained reinforcements. “-for better or worse.”_ _

__“What’s your current position?” Scafe’s voice crackled over the communicator._ _

__“Holed up in the game room,” the feline responded. “Position’s secure for now, but judging by the racket outside, I’d say Emily just became hostile in all the wrong ways.” He dared to take his eyes off the door long enough to search for additions to his barricade. “I think we’re _all_ gonna need an extraction now…either that, or a cure for these maniacs.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JFC, this chapter was longer than the others so far. But hey, it paid off. And this is where my readers are starting to have regrets about reading this, aren't they? _Sorry_.


	4. Tainted "Love"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pitchmaw works on trying to solve the viral infection, while the boys of the Society deal with the infected ladies.

## Part 4: Tainted “Love”

Despite their increasingly-desperate search for partners and prey, the infected women of the Society had kept their distance from Pitchmaw’s room; the mist of PEN-vapor swirling around the edges of the door might have helped to deter them. Behind the safety of his eldritch security measures, the Carnage Cartographer had been working frantically to cross-reference his readings of Izza with anything in the Bunker’s databanks, even calling up one of his peers to assist in searching the Node’s main archives.

“It would certainly help things along if I had more to go on, Pitchmaw!” Franklin Ebert teetered precariously on the edge of his mobile “archive skimmer” as he grabbed another book from the shelf. “Venomous, magic-altered wildlife aren’t exactly uncommon, you know…”

“Did you update the search parameters with Mr. Sunika’s description of the symptoms?” Pitchmaw’s placid inquiry was a sharp contrast to the blur of his fingers; one hand on the keyboard, the other manipulating readouts on his notepad. “If the mention of a ‘Hourglass of Hearts’ is accurate, it might be a member of genus _Lactrodectus_ …”

“Good thinking, sir!” The old man quickly typed a new parameter into a keypad on the side of the skimmer. “I’ll narrow it down to ‘widow spiders’, and…whoop!” He seized the railing as the sides of the upper basket suddenly tilted, sending several books into a lower section marked “RETURNS”. When the shaking stopped and the panels sealed up once more, he grabbed the remaining books and slid them into a slot marked “SEARCH”; seconds later, new readings began popping up on Pitchmaw’s computer.

“Hm…” The saw-winged Bunker agent skimmed through the wall of data until something caught his eye. “What’s this about _**Lactrodectus morrigani**_ , Mr. Ebert?”

“Gimme a second…” Inputting a new command in the skimmer allowed Franklin to find the book with the necessary information. “…Got it! _Lactrodectus morrigani_ , a.k.a. the **Cupid’s Fever Widow.** Usually an inch or less in length…favors temperate-arid environments…ahh, here we go!” He cleared his throat as he recited a passage from the book. 

_Immediately recognizable by its distinctive coloration, the Cupid’s Fever Widow is named for its unique venom, known to induce both paralysis and sexual hormone release simultaneously. On the average Nexian, a bite from this spider won’t induce full-body paralysis for at least six hours, long after the hormonal release ends; the gradual spread of numbing symptoms often provides ample time to find a cure. The Widow is often sought out for manufacturing of a seasonal “date rape” drug simply called “Cupid’s Kiss,” wherein the effects of the venom are **amplified and released in a much shorter time frame.**_

“Hm…” Pitchmaw’s visor gleamed as he digested this new information. “Given the effects among the Society, it’s as if Izza’s bite either came in an abnormally high concentration, or the venom’s effect was amplified _after_ she was bitten… Any notes on the spread vector of contact…?”

Franklin scanned the page before shaking his head. “I’m afraid not. The venom appears to be no more transmissible than any other spider’s; moreover, the gender-based discrepancies and the spider’s mark appearing on the victims’ stomachs certainly aren’t part of its normal effects. From the way you describe it, it’s less like a toxin…and more like a **virus.** ” He paused when he saw Pitchmaw sit up straight, his wing-saws buzzing intermittently. “Oh…have you thought of something, sir?”

“I have…but I’ll need to confirm it on my end.” The Society’s resident Node agent inclined his head to Franklin. “Thank you, Mr. Ebert - that was exactly what I needed. I’ll include the full details of the situation in my next report; please say hello to our peers for me.”

“You don’t even have to ask, Pitchmaw! Good luck - All Hail The New Reality!” Franklin gave a quick salute before ending the call, leaving Pitchmaw to unplug his notepad from the computer and stow it away on his person.

_I may need to apologize to my friends when all this is over…well, nothing a few rounds of “sandbag duty” can’t fix. For now, however…_ His lipless mouth twitched upwards as he rose from his seat, pulling out a syringe marked “AUG-B”. _…Let’s go collect some samples._

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

Tsuneo froze mid-step when the sound of rapid footsteps reached his ears. _Aaah hell. Who else wants a piece of-_ He had his Anarchy Carvers ready to go when a shape rushed right past him; Emily, screeching “Nopenopenopenope…” despite looking familiarly sweaty and flushed.

_Damn, Emily’s gone too…but what’s she running from?_ The Neverdead had a funny feeling he knew the answer, but peered around the corner anyways to confirm it. Sure enough, a large blob of ink-dark sludge was slowly (and literally) rolling down the hallway, making the odd clicks and crackles as the electrified spines dotting its surface touched their surroundings.

“Only _you_ could prove that ‘Even Homicidal Nymphomaniacs Have Standards’, Pitchmaw.” Tsuneo shook his head ruefully as the blob came to a stop near him, pulsing in time with the voice that seemed to shift around its mass.

“Ah, Mr. Sunika; a pleasure to see you up and about.” The blob retracted the spikes from the side facing Tsuneo, allowing it to form an oozing barrier around him as Pitchmaw continued. “I…assume that you had a close encounter with one of our infected peers?”

“As close as one could get…and that’s all I’ll say about that.” As he spoke, Tsuneo examined himself, concluding that he indeed looked quite a mess. His mask was off his face, his jacket hung in tatters from his shoulders, and there were several small rips around the waist of his pants. Aside from that, however, he looked perfectly fine, if perhaps a tad winded; more importantly, he felt none of the signs of the infection taking hold.

Pitchmaw’s blob form made a gurgle that Tsuneo interpreted as confusion. “…Hm. That’s rather curious. I would’ve thought that you’d want to avoid any contact with the afflicted, lest you catch what they’re carrying.”

“I did, but…Irene’s hella insistent even _before_ she’s hopped up on savage fuck-juice.” The revenant shrugged. “All I could do was go along for the ride ‘til she was dazed enough for me to slip out from under her and run; I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop ever since, but it never does.” He anticipated the next question before Pitchmaw could even take a “breath”. “Yes, you may take a scan - if _you’re_ out and about, I’m guessing you know something about this outbreak.”

“Perceptive as ever, sir.” A series of crystalline projections appeared on the slime’s surface, converging and fusing together into the shape of Pitchmaw’s visor. “I’ve managed to identify the source of this particular crisis…please reserve judgement until after I explain.”

“Lemme guess…it’s PEN-related?” Tsuneo put a hand to his eyes, heaving a weary sigh. “…I’ll read you the riot act _after_ this is over; continue.”

“Thank you.” Pitchmaw’s visor-construct began sweeping up and down Tsuneo’s body, bathing him in a faint blue light. “After consulting with the Node’s, I can say with reasonable confidence that we’re dealing with the venom of a Cupid’s Fever Widow, inadvertently enhanced with PEN Serum courtesy of myself and Miss Naami. Suffering the early stages of the venom’s effect, she struck me in a way that splashed trace amounts of PEN Serum on her; I suspect that it may have assimilated the venom and mutated into a viral pathogen.”

_Leave it to Izza…_ Tsuneo mentally groaned. “…We’re gonna need a mutual restraining order for you two…but anyways, what kind of ‘mutations’ are we talking about here?”

“So far, it seems to enhance the venom’s effects on the victims, as well as making the symptoms transmissible to others…but I’m noting something else of interest here.” The visor dulled before dissolving back into Pitchmaw’s blobby mass. “Mr. Sunika… **you’re not infected.** ”

Tsuneo blinked. “Come again?”

“You’re not infected.” Pitchmaw repeated, shifting and pulsing in apparent interest. “There’s no trace of venom, viruses, or even PEN in your body; I suppose you lucked out with Miss Williams-”

“That’s not possible.” Tsuneo shook his head. “She had me pinned down and worked over pretty thoroughly - I’m barely able to walk, even now. There is _no damn way_ I didn’t take a massive dose of…what’d you call this thing?”

“I haven’t named it yet. I was thinking of ‘ ** _Fallopini reproductum_** ’, common name ‘ **Lactrodectus Hemostasis** ’…but whatever we call it, it’s most assuredly _not_ in your body right now.” Small sparks ran along Pitchmaw’s spines as he pondered Tsuneo’s apparent immunity. “Perhaps some aspect of yourself is neutralizing the virus…?”

“ _What,_ though?” the Neverdead shot back. “It can’t be my undead status or my Chaos Factor - Izza’s proof to the contrary. It’s not my gender on top of the above - Brian would be immune otherwise - so that means…” His eyes widened as one possibility surfaced. “Is it…is it because I’m a virgin?”

“That depends,” Pitchmaw replied. “What would constitute a ‘virgin’ in this context? I’m assuming it’s not someone who’s never engaged in sexual intercourse…”

“Well, I suppose I’m not anymore by _general_ definition, but…” Tsuneo rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “If this Widow’s bite is a _neurotoxin_ , then it’d rely on nervous system pathways; most likely the active ones in relation to the act itself. Pathways that shouldn’t activate until the body wakens to that feeling of full-bodied release…” His eyes widened as an idea came to mind. “And if that’s so…a cure likely needs to target the nervous system too; the same vector through which the virus infects an individual.”

“…In other words, I’m on the right track,” Pitchmaw mused. “I was seeking out samples to confirm my suspicions about the nature of the affliction, but now I have a specific target.” Electricity briefly ran through his entire being as the plan took shape. “Once I determine the neural pathways attacked by the neurotoxin, I can develop an antivenom cure that follows the same pathways. …I’d suggest an immunity-assisting cure, but I doubt that anyone will appreciate the disabling of their pleasure receptors.”

“No…but the most interesting thing just came to mind,” Tsuneo said. “Almost no one here _doesn’t_ regularly engage in the act. Previously, I never had; not back home, and not here. I’m willing to take a stab in the dark and assume you never get any action yourself…Scafe and Bex aren’t ones for the sexual…and Gabe’s still pretty young compared to us, so he’s likely not had much of a chance to get that experience on his own time. There’s your short list of immunity candidates.”

“That makes sense.” Pitchmaw was already contemplating his options. “Hm…no offense intended, sir, but…I feel as if the latter three would be better for my initial sample. Your unique biology might prove…difficult…as a template for a general cure…”

“And I’d sooner go another round with Irene than let you expose this virus to even _more_ PEN.” Tsuneo paused as something else occurred to him. “Hey, ‘Maw? Can I ask you for a favor?”

“Oh, an escort is no trouble at all,” Pitchmaw replied smoothly. “I was thinking of it the moment I confirmed your immunity to the infection.”

“Thanks…but that’s not what I meant.” The look on Tsuneo’s face was somewhere between devious and resigned. “Pitchmaw…can we swing by your room before we rendezvous with the others? It seems like a safe zone right now…and I have a sinking suspicion that you’ve got _exactly_ what I need right now to take _one_ problem off our backs…”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

The mood was grim in the War Room as the besieged Society members sat at the table. They had tried to distract themselves with small talk and simple games, but they were always interrupted by another crash at the barricaded door, another explosive burst of magic outside, or their own gloomy thoughts about the contagion now consuming their friends.

“…How long has it been now?” Matt asked dully.

“Eight hours since B.Nana’s outburst.” Chervil answered with none of his usual cheer. “I should have been enjoying a leisurely late lunch with Isaac and Izza right now…but instead…”

“Ugh...tell me about it!” Becky whined. “Scafe and I should be getting ready for _La La Land_ right now, not waiting in terror for imminent rape-slash-mauliiiing!”

“This is hardly the way I expected our Valentine’s Day story to unfold…” Hanna lamented. “Trapped by our female friends as they work themselves to death…hardly a plotline worthy of this romantic time…”

The phantom’s despondent summary was met with several silent nods of agreement…as well as the crackle of a communicator. “Neverdead to Society…this is the Neverdead, calling anyone sane enough to listen! Anybody out there and _not_ being literally fucked to immobility or madness?”

“Tsuneo!” Scafe’s cry echoed the thoughts of everyone else in the room as he responded to the call. “We’re stuck in the War Room, thanks to the infected girls - Cipher’s pinned in the game room after he tried to bail us out. …Where are _you_ ; moreover, _how_ are you? We thought you were screwed - _literally!_ ”

“I’m fine, and I’m in Pitchmaw’s room; deters the women pretty well.” Tsuneo gave his friends no time to ponder how he got there. “I’m pretty much pinned, thanks to my infected girl…but Maw’s heading your way right now, and he’s gonna want to see you, Scafe; Gabe and Becky as well. You three are the Society’s ticket out of this viral nightmare.”

The indicated members had barely exchanged confused looks before a series of panicked cries and scrambling footsteps were heard outside the War Room. The retreating cacophony was quickly replaced by the sounds of crackling, squishing, dripping, and a familiar voice.

“Good afternoon, everyone. I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner, but I’ve brought good news.” A large puddle of inky slime slithered underneath the barricade, gathering in the War Room before shifting to Pitchmaw’s normal appearance. “I’ve identified the root of our problem and I know how to reverse it…but to do so, I’m afraid I’ll have to impose on three of our number.”

“That’d be Scafe, Becky, and I, right?” Gabe asked. “What’s so special about us?”

“I’ll explain later…and perhaps in private. For now, just know that your genetic material is just what I need to cure our newly-created disease.” Pitchmaw already had a few syringes in hand, looking expectantly at the three Society members Tsuneo had mentioned earlier.

“Uhh…say what about ‘ _created,_ ’ now?” Even as she asked, Becky rolled up her sleeve and waited for the brief twinge of pain from a needle poking her arm.

“Well…I suppose we need something to pass the time.” Pitchmaw nodded to himself as he walked over to Becky with a syringe at the ready. “I should probably ‘start from the top’, as they say…”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

Light briefly filled the teleporter room as a large group of Society folk appeared on the Warp Pad. “Well fucking well!” exclaimed Dante. “Fancy seein’ _you_ here!”

“Right back at’cha, Tanuki!” Redana chortled. “This is amazing; what’re the odds we _all_ warped home at the exact same time like this?” She shook her head before pushing her glasses further up her nose. “Lemme guess; coming home to shack up with Zs after a long day of trying to maul each other?”

“It’s called ‘goofing off’, ya music-loving donut nut,” Dante snarked back before regarding Tavo and his girlfriends. “What about you, mini-corn? Run outta places to make a pony-bat sandwich?” He pointedly ignored Coco’s glower as Tavo’s face went scarlet.

“We just decided to come home and finish the night in style~” Bea said, holding up some shopping bags. “Gotta say, these V-Day deals are _killer!_ ”

“It seems that luck was in your favor today,” Aumier commented, adjusting the brim of his hat as he followed the others out of the room and up the stairs towards the first floor.

“I know, right?!” Brianna chimed in, shaking the bagfuls of finds dangling from her spider limbs. “Not only does my art sell like hotcakes, I always get supplies for a right _steal_ on holidays like this!”

“Hopefully not by using your teddy-Parasite to make that a _literal_ steal…” JoJo’s chuckle was halted by a distant tremor. “Uhh…anyone else feel that?” 

“That…doesn’t seem good.” Zs’s brief comment was reinforced when the group emerged on the first floor and found the mansion in a state of serious upheaval. It looked as if N.E.D. had been through the place with a hurricane and a full platoon of Neo-Soldiers; stranger still, they could hear a whole mess of distant noises both inside and outside of the building.

“Whoa! What kinda V-Day party did we _miss_ here?” Redana sounded torn between shock and disappointment before a strained voice answered her rhetorical question.

“The party that never ends…’til everyone drops _dead!!!_ ” The scream was accompanied by an oddly-colored peach landing at the group’s feet, immediately exploding into a thick cloud of pungent smoke. Before anyone could do much more than cough, Zs was dragged away by a crackling whip of flesh and bone; an instant later, Brianna cried out as she was tackled to the ground.

“Oof! What the actual- WHOA!” The anthropomorphic widow-bunny yelled in shock as Redana mustered a gust of wind to dispel the Peachy Poof’s smoke, giving Brianna a visual on her assailant. It was B.Nana, wearing only an expression of crazed desire on her face and a strange red mark on her stomach that matched the color of her blazing eyes. Before she could do more than take in the strange sight, she found her face being seized by claw-tipped hands as the banana-woman went in for a deep, desperate kiss.

“ _Alright, this is a little_ too _crazy, even by my lofty standards!_ ” Dionysus snapped Brianna’s ear-mouth at B.Nana, but it only seemed to encourage her. “ _We could use some help over here!_ ” His call for aid was ignored by Dante; his focus was entirely on the undead goat-girl forcing a clearly-disturbed Zs’s face into her cleavage.

“We’ve been _over_ this, Em; _Dearheart is **off limits.**_ ” Dante’s calm voice belied the absolutely furious assault he brought against Emily, just barely kept at bay by the wild swings of the electrified whips replacing her arms. Aumier moved to back up the raccoon-dog; meanwhile, JoJo leapt to Brianna’s defense, forcing B.Nana off of her with a burst of shadow magic.

“ **SWEET _FUCKING_ PANOPTICON!!!**” Tavo screamed, blindly firing his magnum in the general direction of a ragged but still quite aggressive Amethyst. The few shots that didn’t fly wide were blocked by the cyborg goat’s energy blades as she closed in, but Bea forced her back with a sonic scream.

“We can’t linger here; it’s too dangerous.” Coco stood beside the cowering Tavo as she drew her handgun. “Bea and I will cover you; get upstairs and find a way out of here.”

“Wh- _what!?_ ” Tavo snapped out of his shock at the order. “I can’t just _bail_ on you guys!”

“ _Move, dammit!_ ” Genuine panic cracked the assassin pony’s usual stoic demeanor as she kept Amethyst on the defensive with shots from her gun. “We’ll be right behind you!”

Tavo hesitated for an instant longer before swallowing his doubts and nodding back at Coco. “Hold the line, guys - I’ll come back with help!” He hoped that he sounded more confident than he felt as he bolted for the stairs. _Some_ baaad _shit went down here, but_ someone’s _gotta know what happened! The others must be upstairs…I just hope they’re not as crazy as these gals!_

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

The mood in the War Room had lightened somewhat following Pitchmaw’s arrival, but that just replaced “creeping despair” with “intense confusion” as everyone digested the Carnage Cartographer’s explanation about the situation.

“So…let me see if I have this straight.” Max tapped the side of his head with a finger as he gathered his thoughts. “Izza was bitten by a bizarre spider with a paralytic aphrodisiac in its venom?”

“ _Lactrodetus morrigani_ , yes.” Pitchmaw didn’t so much as glance away from the trio of blood-filled syringes held between his fingers as he answered the bear’s question.

“And then that venom got an accidental shot of PEN when Izza shot you in the face, turning it into a contagious pathogen with gender-specific effects and a contact-based transmission method?” Hanna continued.

“Precisely.” Pitchmaw set the syringes down before swiping his notepad, bringing up diagrams of complex chemical molecules and a human nervous system.

“Aaand _then_ Izza unknowingly infected Amethyst and B.Nana, kicking off an outbreak that hits everyone and anyone…except virgins?” Matt finished with more than a hint of incredulity. “Damn…and I thought losing my virginity was an _accomplishment_.”

“You’ll be able to enjoy it once I’ve synthesized a cure to _Fallopini reproductum_.” Pitchmaw tapped his notepad with the barest of frowns. “Hm. I’ve identified the nerve clusters affected by the virus, but developing a cure from here could be…troublesome. I’d return to my room - or better yet, the R&D lab - but my presence here might be the only thing deterring our infected peers from making further break-in attempts.”

“Don’t give yourself so much credit,” Juliet quipped dryly. “We fortified this place pretty well - unless those girls figure out how to liquefy themselves like you, they won’t get in here without a _lot_ of effort.”

“I wouldn’t be so confident, Juliet,” Gideon warned. “If our Bunker friend is to be believed, Irene is among the ranks of the infected; her portal magic could spell doom for us all.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully before adding, “That being said, I haven’t seen or heard her among our assailants…”

“Maybe…she’s not interested in us?” Gabe raised a hand as several of the others gave him skeptical looks. “Wait, wait, hear me out. From what we’ve seen and heard so far, it looks like the infected women are still influenced by their normal relationships; that doesn’t mean much for the likes of Amethyst or B.Nana, but Irene’s pretty fixated on Tsuneo alone. If that carried over to her infected self, she’d ignore us completely in favor of the NeverDead - since he’s hiding in Pitchmaw’s room right now, she’s probably waiting for him to leave.”

“That makes sense,” Pitchmaw noted. “If nothing else, the infectees still seem remarkably wary of me…although my preferred form of traversal was, and I quote…‘ _99.9999 percent unfuckable_ ’, as Izza once put it.” He paused to let the group titter at his matter-of-fact quotation. “Anyways, I suggest that we-”

“ _HHHEEEEEEEELLLLLLPP!!!!_ ” Tavo’s panicked scream made most of the group jump to their feet as a renewed clamor broke out beyond the barricade. “For the love of Alcest, _open the fucking door!_ ”

“Tavo!?” Zuula clicked in surprise. “When did you get here?”

“QUESTIONS LATER; ENTRY **NOW!** ” From the sounds of high-pitched screeching and gunfire, Tavo was accompanied by Bea and Coco, fighting for their very lives. “ME AND MY GIRLS NEED! _SOME! **COVER!!!**_ ” His bellow was followed by a rapid series of bangs, each one making the barricade visibly shift. 

“Wait, you numbskull!” Juliet snapped. “Don’t-” She was forced to interrupt herself as she and the others ducked under the sudden barrage of debris that used to be blocking the door of the War Room - fortunately, Pitchmaw had already secured his notepad and blood samples. When they dared to look up, they saw Tavo sitting in the doorway, eyes whirling in their sockets as he tried to recover from his impromptu stint as a battering ram.

“Oooogh…for the love of Neige, that _smarts!_ ” The little unicorn shook his head vigorously to clear the stars before his eyes…allowing him to see several very upset Society members glaring at him. “…What?” he said defensively. “It’s crazy as fuck out there - we needed to find some cover!”

“Fair enough…but couldn’t you have, I dunno…MAYBE _NOT_ DESTROYED THE ONLY THING KEEPING THE CRAZIES **OUT!?** ” Becky shrieked as Coco and Bea became visible behind Tavo, still doing their best to fend off their unseen foes. “We’re completely open now - to say nothing of whether those two are infected!”

“I BEG YOUR FUCKING PARDON-” Tavo’s indignant cry was interrupted by the howl of Hanna’s summoned spirits engulfing him and Coco, dragging them into the War Room a mere instant before Max and Becky raised a wall of ice and earth over the entrance.

“Fortunately, neither of our equine friends are infected.” Pitchmaw reported before glancing at a stunned Tavo. “ _Un_ fortunately, I can’t say the same of Bea…or her immediate assailants.”

Tavo only stared blankly at Pitchmaw, looking the very definition of gormless confusion, but Coco limited her reaction to a brief squeezing of her eyelids. “The barricade won’t hold for long, especially since we’ve drawn all of the…infectees, you called them?…to our position. Now would be a good time to leave,” she said.

“And how the hell do we do _that?!_ ” Matt demanded. “We’re four floors up, and the only way outta here is through the doorway we just re-blocked!”

“Not…necessarily…” Gideon walked to the massive window overlooking the Chaos-wracked island. “I believe that we’ll have to make our _own_ exit…through here.” He tapped a small web of cracks where debris had hit the glass after Tavo’s forced entrance, ignoring a few double-takes from the Society. “If we work together, we should be able to get clear of the mansion and head for the R&D labs; you’ll also be able to work on your cure there, Pitchmaw.”

“Of course, Mr. Kingsley…but if I may, I think I’ll cover your escape first.” The Carnage Cartographer looked back at the barricade, which was already showing signs of damage from the other side. “I should be able to give the women _some_ pause, at least.” He summoned his gauntlet and axe to his hands as his wings unfurled.

“Thanks, ‘Maw…but do _not_ let this stop you from reaching the labs!” Scafe replied. “As of now, you’re our best chance of saving our friends - make that cure your absolute _top_ priority! That’s an order!”

“By your will, sir…now then, shall we make our exit point?” Pitchmaw glided back to the window, drawing back his gauntleted fist as Matt sprayed a line of acid along the glass.

“Alright then… _NOW!_ ” Max’s cry signalled a whole wave of blows against the window, completely shattering the acid-weakened glass. The sounds of Izza’s rampage redoubled, but the group’s concern was directed at the rapidly-crumbling barrier over the door - save Pitchmaw, who simply took a few steps back from the window without turning around.

“Becky, Hanna! Do it!” Scafe signalled the two indicated members to dive out the window, Becky slightly ahead of Hanna. As she left the room, the cryomancer fired a stream of ice magic under her, creating a long, winding trail of ice from the window to the ground. Hanna followed up with another wave of spirit magic, creating eerie green walls to support the precarious slide.

“GO! GO! GO!” Gabe’s shout was barely heard over the triumphant snarls of the infected Society women as they finally burst into the room. That was Pitchmaw’s cue to whirl around, roaring at the advancing girls with his gaping torso mouth as bolts of dark lightning crackled around his body. Even in their crazed states, the infectees skidded to a stop with looks of utter terror, giving Max a chance to begin sliding down Becky and Hanna’s impromptu escape route.

“Not-So-Hellspawn to all Society members; we are _getting the fuck outta here!_ ” Scafe took to the air outside the War Room, overseeing the evacuation while staying out of the immediate danger zone. “All known infection vectors are in the War Room; if you’re not with us now, this is your best chance to run for the hills, _literally!_ ” He paused to dodge another errant result of the literal chaos outside; a headless torso with rockets for legs and an epic scream despite no visible mouth. “We’re rendezvousing in R&D get there ASAP so we can dig in and give ‘Maw a chance to whip up a cure! Not-So-Hellspawn, out!”

With his call complete, the draconic Councilman returned his full attention to the scene before him. The (figurative) shock from Pitchmaw’s “threat display” had worn off of the infected Society girls, prompting him to switch his gauntlet to its ranged mode in preparation for a “warning shot”. Unfortunately, B.Nana interrupted him with a well-aimed Concussonut; the colossal sound and subsequent shockwave left the Society members reeling as the infected girls rushed past Pitchmaw to attack the others.

“Not good!” Shaking his head to quiet his ringing ears, Scafe swooped out of the air with his chains at the ready, seizing his nearest allies - Gabe and Gideon - and forcing them onto the spirit-augmented ice slide. “Move it, guys - we need to get to the lab! That goes _double_ for you, ‘Maw!”

“Understood, sir. I’ll see you there.” The resident Bunker agent vanished in a flash of inky light, leaving Scafe to sweep the War Room with his gaze. The rest of his friends were putting up a spirited fight to subdue their infected peers, but it was safe to assume that the virus was already in their systems. Some had cuts and bruises where the girls had landed hits, while others were physically grappling with their assailants, being splashed with sweat and…other fluids as they struggled to hold down the lust-crazed women.

Realizing that there was nothing he could do for them now, Scafe regretfully smashed the end of the ice slide with a chain, hoping that Hanna would recognize his cue. Sure enough, the green glow faded from the rest of the ice, causing the whole structure to collapse under its own weight. Shaking his head as he took flight once more, the Not-So-Hellspawn brought out his communicator, trying to contact his friends while evading the odd projectile outburst of the contaminated zombie-witch still wreaking havoc outside.

“Not-So-Hellspawn to everyone still uninfected…I reiterate my order to rendezvous at the R&D labs. And to…to… _heugh._ ” He closed his eyes for as long as he dared, fighting back a surge of burning shame at his next words. “…To everyone still left in the mansion…I’m sorry, but you’re on your own now. We’ll save you…I promise.”

The dragon-man’s resigned words starkly contrasted his elaborate flight patterns as he weaved his way through the chaotic skies, heading for the mountains to reunite with the remaining uninfected members of the Society.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, in case it wasn't clear, Tsuneo's first time... was bad. That was a hard moment to realize, because -as my husband pointed out- _that's two of his male characters whose first times were rape experiences_.
> 
> Nice Job Breaking it, Irene. And yes, it does have an impact on their relationship, as you'll soon find...


	5. In the Green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the remaining uninfected members holed up in the R&D lab, it appears to be the Darkest Hour for the Society. Can they cure the girls before it's too late?

## Part 5: In the Green

Throughout his interesting, less-than-pleasant life, Jack Cipher had come to enjoy silence. In his experience, it usually had positive connotations; a break in torture, a chance to gather his thoughts, the knowledge that he was the only living thing in the vicinity, and so on.

Today was no different; the feline perked up immediately when the silence settled on the game room serving as his safehouse. The sounds of carnage outside the door had briefly peaked before rapidly fading to nothing; a sign that his attackers had found something else to harass. Jack moved closer to the door, putting his ear right against it as he strained to find even the barest hint of sound. Aside from a distant clamor and a scream he identified as Tavo, he heard nothing whatsoever.

_Sounds like the coast is clear…“_ sounds like _” being the operative words here._ Jack eyed his A.B.B.I. implant, which he’d taken out after securing his barricade in order to save on power. _Should have enough to make it outside and meet up with the Razor if it_ really _goes to hell…_

Formulating a quick plan of action and a mental map of his possible escape routes, the feline began to slowly disassemble his barricades, setting aside each piece of furniture with as little noise as possible before taking hold of the handle. Cracking the door open just an inch, Jack surveyed and listened for any indicators of detection, but was only awarded with silence punctuated by the distant crashes.

Frowning to himself, the feline closed both eyes before the mechanical plates covering his left unfolded and his cybernetic eye went to work; spinning in all directions as it searched for life signs. Sure enough, the vast majority of signatures came from above in the War Room, and judging by the movement patterns, the infected were making headway.

“Right then…time to take my leave.” Jack sighed as he pushed the door the rest of the way open and began making his way for the stairs. Tapping his communicator, he waited for the connection to go through before speaking. “Cipher to Society; I’m on the move towards the front lawn, what’s your situations?”

“Somewhere between eleven and infinity on the ‘shit hitting the fan’ scale,” Max responded. “The War Room’s fallen, along with a few more of our number; as it stands, the mansion is now a total loss, and the sane members of the Crimson Society include you, me, Tsuneo, Scafe, Becky, Hanna, Gabe, Gideon, and Pitchmaw. We’re making our way to R&D as we speak - ‘Maw’s working on a cure, but he’ll need to get to a lab to make any headway.”

“Copy that, I’ll signal Raptor to cover you as much as possible. Cipher out.” Jack nodded as he prepped A.B.B.I. once more before turning down the stairwell. “Okay, let’s think…vastly outnumbered, losing ground, and no word on a solution yet. Sounds like a good time to make some noise.”

Making his way downstairs and towards the front door, Jack’s ears perked up at the sound of incoming footsteps, but something about them seemed…off, given the circumstance. _Tiptoeing? Who in their right mind…_ He exhaled softly as he took hold of the front door’s handle, readying himself as the footsteps broke into a soft pattering sprint before he took a sidestep, opening the door as he did and-

*THUNK!*

Jack put all his weight into keeping his attacker pinned into the doorframe while also avoiding their flailing limbs. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, Potion Girl!”

“Alright! Ya got me!” Eridia grunted out as she attempted to squirm a few precious inches out of her trap. “I thought it’d be a lot easier than this!”

“Don’t we all!” Jack snarled as he released his hold on the door, allowing the witch to hit the floor with an audible sigh. “What in the name of fuck are you doing, you moron?” He took a few precautionary steps away from the woman as he noticed her robes looked more tattered than normal. _Infected? No, too talkative for that, not sweating for another, and doesn’t seem too out of it…by her standards. Why, then…?_

“Ahh, much better!” Eridia announced as she hopped back to her feet, only to spin and lean in a manner Jack supposed could’ve been considered flirtatious, if not for the utter overdone posture and rapidly shifting expression trying to simultaneously convey seduction, nonchalant interest, and boredom. “So, come here often~? Nice…gun?”

“You have five seconds before I tase you unconscious. Starting…” Jack raised his mechanical hand, allowing a harsh crackle of electricity to spring from his palm, something that finally prompted Eridia to drop the act.

“Okay okay! I heard everyone was comin’ down with rampant ‘fuck everyone syndrome’, so I felt I had to participate too!” She waved her hands placatingly as Jack continued to glare in unreadable silence. “Well…I mean, that’s the rules, right?” She leaned against the door as she polished her knuckles against her robes. “All the people who’ve scored go after the losers who haven’t? Basic rules of tag with a Valentine’s twist~”

“…Eridia, you blithering idiot…” The feline could only massage his temples to keep his hands from going for the woman’s throat. “There is a serious emergency going on at the moment, not some bullshit game of _tag!_ And on that note, you look like you’ve already been attacked! How long ago was _that?!_ ”

“Banana-lady in the gardens a little over an hour ago; seemed more fucky than normal. Good thing I’ve had too much experience~” It was either to the bat’s credit or detriment that she seemed completely unphased by the feline’s jaw dropping.

“….Okay, so from what I hear, you’re immune; that’s good at least…” Jack sighed before pushing past Eridia to continue on outside. “Not sure what I expected, but you hooking up should’ve never have been a concern.”

Eridia gave an overly theatrical gasp of offense at the feline’s statement before following after him. “How _dare_ you, sir! I’ll have you know I’ve shared the company of many in my time! Nobleman! Heads of state! Fast food employees! _No one_ is safe from these hands!” She waggled her fingers in front of her face for emphasis, prompting a disgusted groan from Jack.

“Oh, for the love of god, I do _not_ want to hear you pretend to have engaged in-” The cat’s rant was brought to an abrupt halt by a sudden blast of magical energy that only missed his head by mere inches. “Oh, that is not good…”

Both Society member’s eyes went to the source of the errant missile; none other than Izza Naami herself, practically radiating Chaotic energy from her green-and-brown-streaked skin and looking angry enough to unleash a localized apocalypse.

“It wasn’t very _nice_ of you to ghost me like that earlier, Jackie…” Izza stumbled a few feet closer towards the two anthropomorphs, sweeping one of the wands in her hands vertically to trail a stream of magical energy that turned the very air between the two into bubbles wreathed in squirming tentacles. “I’m gonna have to take a page or three outta Bitchmaw’s book and _teach you some **manners!**_ ”

“Eridia… _run._ ” Jack stated simply as A.B.B.I. reformed his helmet over his head.

“Waaay ahead of you!” Eridia yelled back as she gripped the sides of her witch’s hat. “Express ticket to Society R&D, please~” With a mighty tug, she pulled the hat over her entire body, being completely swallowed inside of it before it vanished in a puff of smoke. 

“A.B.B.I., all excess power to anti-magic shielding...think I’m about to need it.” Jack commanded the A.I. before reaching into his belt to withdraw a few metal capsules. “Alright, Izza; what’s on your mind? You look like Pitchmaw tried to pull his _Ceiling Shark_ routine on ya again.”

“Ooooh, I’ve had one _hell_ of a bad day, Kitten…and that cocky attitude is only making me _madder!_ ” Izza all but screeched the end of her sentence as she raised her wand and gave a quick twist of her wrist, lobbing a particularly bloated mass of magical energy at the feline. Jack was already breaking to the right by the time it made impact, whereupon it burst the ground open, allowing a cascade of candy-cane patterned roots to spring forth and lash out at the nearby surroundings and each other.

“Tell me about it! I was having a nice quiet day until _you_ went and fucked everything over.” The cat called back as he flicked the first of the capsules in Izza’s direction. After crossing half of the distance between them, it burst open to form a sizable energy net which Izza merely blasted aside, causing it to reform into a network of snakes that quickly scattered.

“Well isn’t that just typical of...you?” Izza’s burgeoning retort died in her throat as turned back towards the feline’s general location, only to find him missing. “Where the fuck did you go, you slimy _little **COWARD?!**_ ” When no answer came, the chaotimancer quickly devolved into rapid-fire curses before resuming her prior magic spamming towards everywhere she could manage to hit.

Crouching just around the corner of the mansion and pressed flat against the wall, Jack heaved a resounding sigh of relief. “Why can’t holidays around here be normal at least once?” Leaving the question for another time, he continued on his way towards R&D, and was only just rounding the next corner when the sounds of shattering glass emanated from above and a powerful weight hit him dead on. Hitting the ground like a ton of bricks, the feline was left completely dazed as a wholly unwelcome voice sounded from atop him.

“Lookit what _I_ caught, Dionysus!” Brianna cheered in dementedly ecstatic delight as her spider limbs speared the cat in both thighs and upper arms, nearly puncturing all the way through to the soil beneath. “Fresh furball!”

“God- grph - _fucking dammit!_ ” Jack screamed through gritted teeth at the utter pain of the impromptu stabbings. “Get off of me, you lunatic!” A knife emerged from the knuckle joint on his mechanical hand, which he swept towards the hybrid, only to hear and feel the rending of metal as something intercepted the strike. Looking up, Jack was greeted with the sight of none other than Emily, arm twisted into a boney blade that had all but totaled his robotic arm, leaving it nearly sliced in two down its length. “Oh shit…”

“Hurry it up already, Brianna! I want a turn!” Emily whined as she stalked over to kneel before in front of the cat’s head, whereupon she mutated the fingers on both hands into serrated talons and plunged them into the man’s shoulder, keeping him pinned.

“Hold your horses, Em! We gotta take this _niiiice_ and slow~” Brianna consoled her current partner before leveling a menacingly telling grin on the man below her. “You know how much the kitty hates getting all touchy-feely~ Should make it a lot more fun!!” She punctuated her statement by morphing her own fingers into gnarled claws, which she promptly dug into the cat’s armor to begin shredding nanomachines.

_I really hate this holiday…_ Cipher inwardly groaned as he accessed his mental database, overriding all urges to struggle against his situation before running the ‘kill switch’ protocol. Within mere seconds, his eyes faded from yellow to grey, and he was out like a light.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

Tsuneo had made a break from Pitchmaw’s room when Scafe called for a full evacuation, banking on the infectees being too busy in the War Room to consider coming downstairs. He made it out safely enough; once outside, he deftly navigated the Izza-caused chaos on his way to the R&D lab. He was mere steps away from the door when a familiar winged form dropped out a portal in front of him.

“Hello, _hun_.” The deranged smile Irene gave her boyfriend was doing its level best to split her face in two. “Ready for Round Two~?”

Tsuneo sighed at the predictable “offer” from his infected girlfriend. “Irene, please; you’ve already derailed the plans for a romantic evening.” _Even if it_ was _Izza’s fault,_ he mentally added. “I can’t have you making me lose feeling in more than just my legs for more than just a few minutes.”

“Oh, how _silly_ of me - of _course_ you’re only concerned about yourself,” Irene sneered. “Not about _my_ feelings. Not about how I _hate_ this holiday because you would rather torment me than grant me release!”

“Woman, don’t even _start_ with this right now.” Tsuneo snapped back, red slowly welling up in his cloudy grey eyes. “I know that’s just the toxins talking, but still your tongue before you say something you’re gonna regret, love.”

From the way they buzzed erratically, Irene’s wings sounded more like a bee’s than a butterfly’s. “The only way I’m stilling my tongue is if it’s in your fucking mouth! Now **come here!** ” She went for another portal-aided pounce, but Tsuneo was ready for her this time, anticipating her exit point and grabbing her by the arms as she emerged. Using the momentum of the pounce, he swung Irene around before slamming her into the ground back-first.

“Ngh! … _Gods,_ I didn’t think you liked playing rough…” Despite the unpleasant impact, Irene sounded downright pleased by this development. “I _like_ it~<3”

“Trust me, you’re gonna like _this_ more.” With Irene pinned underfoot, Tsuneo reached into his torn jacket and pulling out a pair of blue metal manacles, causing Irene’s wings to form heart-shaped spots. “Never thought I’d say this, but…Pitchmaw, I’m _glad_ you had the presence of mind to keep up your **anti-magic** research…”

The mention of “anti-magic” evaporated Irene’s enthusiasm faster than a cold shower in a box of spiders. “Don’t you fucking _dare_ , hun!” She struggled to break free, but Tsuneo held her down, his reluctance obvious as the Reaper Blade appeared in his free hand. 

“Sorry, love…you’ve left me no other option this time. Forgive me for this.” The revenant swung his blade, carving out the earth beneath Irene before tossing her to the side. She was quick to dash in, attempting to steal the cuffs away, but Tsuneo blocked her with the blade, turning to slam her into the door to R&D. With Irene stunned, Tsuneo surged forth with both hands open, slapping the manacles onto her cuffs. The manacles quickly magnetized together when activated, forcing both of Irene’s arms over her head as she shook off the stun. To her dismay, the first thing she noticed was her wings fading away and morphing into a pendant around her throat; a sure sign that the anti-magic was doing its work.

“…You are a _real_ ass, you know that?” With a growl, Irene tried to kick free of her bindings, but the cuffs refused to budge as Tsuneo hefted her up towards the light post near the door. “When I get out of these, I am gonna make you so tired you won’t move for a month!”

“Whatever you say, love…” Tsuneo stepped back once he was sure that Irene’s cuffs were firmly attached to the light post. “I’m gonna focus on saving you and everyone else on this island first. If you’re still feeling this way when you’re cured of this _literal_ love bug, I’ll make damn sure _you’re_ the one not moving by the end of the night.”

With Irene left screeching obscenities at that knowing tease, Tsuneo continued into R&D behind her, checking to make sure the door was locked before trying to finally catch up with his allies. It was slow going in the pitch blackness, but he soon noticed a faint light ahead. Noticing the eerie green tint to the light, he moved towards it; sure enough, he soon found himself emerging in one of the lab areas, illuminated by Hanna’s spirit lights. Most of the remaining Society members were present, save one - judging by the way everyone snuck glances at an adjacent door, Tsuneo could guess where that missing one was.

“Status report,” he growled. “How’s ‘Maw doing on that cure?”

“Place your bets,” Max replied dryly. “Hanna said that he disappeared into the side lab the moment he arrived; I think he’s using his own electricity to keep everything running.” He jerked a thumb at the door, periodically emitting soft crackling noises and wisps of inky vapor, before focusing his attention on his fellow Councilman. “…How are you, old chap? You look like you’ve been through quite a wringer.”

“Him? What about _me!?_ ” Eridia interrupted. “I spent the last…nine-and-a-half hours thinking we were playing ‘Sexy V-Day Tag’, and then it turned out that the whole place is taking a one-way trip to hell in a handcart! …How am I supposed to win the game now?!” Her earnest question was answered by a chorus of facepalms from most of the group.

“Miss Sylvania…I’m afraid you’ve been misinformed,” Gideon began. “This is no game; our friends are suffering from a new, deadly disease. Whether it immobilizes the men or drives the women mad with lust, the result is the same: a slow, inexorable slide to death…unless Pitchmaw succeeds in developing a cure from the blood of the immune.”

The hat-obsessed bat stared slack-jawed at Gideon for several seconds before finding her words. “…What kinda weird-ass game are _you_ guys playing? Seems pretty grim…wait, don’t tell me. This was Pitchmaw’s idea, wasn’t it?” 

“ _No,_ you airheaded conwoman…well, unless you count him ‘contributing’ PEN to the spider venom running through Izza’s blood in the first place,” Tsuneo amended. “Long story short, we’ve got an all-new virus making the rounds; if you managed to avoid it without even knowing what’s going on, you’re either incredibly lucky or a virgin-”

“ **LUCKY!** ” Eridia blurted out. “I’m lucky! _Insanely_ lucky! I have luck pouring outta my ears!” Noticing several bewildered and skeptical looks, she composed herself with a small cough. “Alright, whatever this is…what are we gonna do about it?”

The answer came with the soft hiss of a door, heralding Pitchmaw’s emergence from seclusion. “Thank you for waiting, everyone. I’m pleased to announce that my experiment was a success; the cure for _Fallopini reproductum_ is finally ready for distribution.”

“Yes! Finally!” Gabe pumped his fist victoriously. “Now we can save Amy and the others!”

“I’m afraid it’s not so simple,” Pitchmaw’s wing-saws hummed to quell the upswell of confused and irritated cries. “Please reserve judgement until after I explain; simply rushing in with the cure will do us little good. Not only does it expose us to potential injury or infection, it may also drive the infected women to seek avenues of escape. At best, they may hurt themselves in the attempt; at worst, there may be a risk of spreading the virus beyond our island’s borders.”

“ _The Nexus would be doomed if this plague spreads to the mainland,_ ” Demeter said. “ _We’ll need to avoid that latter option at all costs; I’m assuming you have a plan to that effect, Pitchmaw?_ ”

“I do.” The Carnage Cartographer nodded affirmatively before presenting the group with a vial of luminescent green liquid. “It’s got a few steps, but it should be fairly straightforward-” He paused when a sudden gust of wind blew the vial from his hand, leaving it to shatter on the floor.

“ _Nice_ one, butterfingers!” Becky snarked. “Try not to drop important stuff at the first draft, huh?”

“I…don’t think that was a mere draft…” Hanna noted uneasily. “I sense a presence…multiple presences, in fact…coming from-” He froze as a new sound filled the room: a familiar, sinister clicking.

“Well well well…look at what we have here~” Zuula’s shell hid the hourglass mark on her stomach, but the lustful gleam in her eye told the group everything they needed to know as she and Redana stepped into the room. “A whole warren of rabbits cowering in the den…waiting to be _devoured_ ~!”

“Awww, but these bunnies are so _cute!_ ” Redana’s interjection would’ve been reassuring if not for a similar hungry gleam behind her glasses as she twirled her scythe. “We should pin ‘em down and snuggle ‘em a bit; really _build up_ to the rough stuff~” 

“F…fuck that…!” To the Society’s surprise and consternation, Amethyst forced her way past the other two infected women to size up the group before them. Despite looking ready to keel over in a stiff breeze, the cyborg goat’s bloodshot magenta eyes were nearly aglow with savage anticipation as she singled out Pitchmaw. “Don’t…expect a repeat…of the War Room…you inky killjoy! I’m gonna…get some…even if I have to…make _you_ …first in line!!!”

The threat made the uninfected Society folk do a double take; even Redana and Zuula looked taken aback. “Now _that’s_ something I’ve never heard,” the troll snarked.

“A fine jest indeed~” Zuula clicked skeptically. “You must be _truly_ desperate if you’re willing to try and get in _Pitchmaw’s_ pants, dear Amethyst…not afraid of becoming dinner, are we~?”

“All I’m _afraid_ of…is whether…or not…he can _last_ …long enough…to gimme…what…I… _want!_ ” Amethyst’s voice cracked with her next scream as she suddenly lunged at the Society’s resident Bunker agent. The others dove for cover, expecting an epic clash…but Pitchmaw seemed remarkably content to let the goat-girl stab him right through the torso with her blades.

“Oh dear… _F. reproductum_ is having quite the run of your sanity…understandable, given how long you’ve been infected by now.” Pitchmaw’s visored gaze went to Tsuneo as he forced Amethyst back with a surprise suplex; with the blades gone, the sizzling wounds healed in seconds. “There’s no need for that, Mr. Sunika. I have every intention of obliging Miss Hart’s request.”

Some of the uninfected Society folk screamed “WHAT!?” at Pitchmaw’s statement - even the infected girls seemed surprised - but Gabe only ducked back behind the table he was using for cover. _Something tells me he’s not talking about sex here…_ His mind struggled between apprehension and hope as Pitchmaw confirmed his thoughts.

“You see, I understand you, Miss Hart. What you desire is _release_ ; an escape from the torment in your body and mind.” Pitchmaw pulled out a syringe, the “AUG-S” label gleaming in Hanna’s spirit lights as he injected the contents into himself. “You’ve simply chosen the wrong means of finding it…allow me to **correct** that.”

Amethyst’s only response was an incoherent shriek as she broke free of Tsuneo’s grip to lunge at Pitchmaw once more…far too late. The Carnage Cartographer’s humanoid form sloughed away like a loose cloak, both melting from and merging with the monstrous frilled shark that met Amethyst’s charge with jaws agape. The infected goat-woman didn’t even have time to realize her error before Pitchmaw’s namesakes clamped down on her; one on her neck, one on her shoulders, and one on her midriff. 

“What the- FUCK!” Redana joined Zuula in ducking for cover as the shark veered towards them, but Pitchmaw was expecting that. His pectoral fins flipped open to release the semi-solid appendages within, seizing the other two virus-infected women in their claws as the Node agent circled around and came to a stop before his flabbergasted friends.

“…There _are_ less dramatic ways to spring a trap on people.” Max quipped dryly.

“Wh-where’s the fun in that, though~?” Eridia’s giggle couldn’t quite hide her nervousness as Pitchmaw loomed over her and the others, still holding the three infectees tightly as they flailed in his grip. Now that he had stopped moving, the group could see something odd about the sawblades and highlights lining his serpentine body; instead of their usual neon blue, they were a shade of green similar to the vial of cure Redana had broken.

“ _This_ would be why I took so long,” Pitchmaw revved the saws on his back for emphasis. “Once I perfected the cure for _F. reproductum_ , I injected the first dose into myself in order to memorize its formula. As such, I can freely generate the cure and imbue it in my various extremities…like so.”

The others watched with interest as Pitchmaw’s claws gained a green tint and pierced Redana and Zuula’s veins. Both women twitched briefly before going limp…but that was nothing compared to what Amethyst was going through. Her legs - the only part of her not pinned by Pitchmaw’s mouths - redoubled their flailing as a few neon green and dark blue drops leaked between the shark’s rows of fangs. Finally, the jaws released their grip, but only to reveal Amethyst still convulsing in the air, held aloft only by the metal-plated, worm-like tongue coiled around her shoulders and grasping the back of the head.

“My sincere apologies, Mr. Hart; it appears that the necessary dose of cure increases in proportion to the severity of the infection.” As usual, Pitchmaw’s speech was unaffected by his open mouths and the mandibles digging into Amethyst’s scalp. “Given how long your sister was infected, I’m afraid that she needs an _extended_ dosing.”

Gabe nodded numbly, eyes fixed on Amethyst as her struggles finally ceased. With all three of his captives neutralized, Pitchmaw slowly lowered himself to the floor, laying down the formerly-infected women with surprising delicacy. The rest of the group crowded around the trio, noting their slow, steady breaths and the pinprick wounds dotting their bodies where Pitchmaw had injected them.

“It appears that they’re alive, at least.” Gideon looked over at the shark-like abomination as its third eye whirred in its socket. “When will we know if the cure has worked?”

“If my projections are correct, it should run its full course in four hours or so,” Pitchmaw answered. “The subject should awaken within thirty minutes; the mental effects of the virus will be purged, but they’ll still be physically exhausted. They should gradually regain motor control over the next few hours; the four-hour mark is when the virus’s effects become completely nonexistent.”

“Well…this story seems to be gradually taking a turn for the better,” Hanna commented. “I suppose the next stage is to apply your cure to the rest of the infected, then?”

“Precisely,” Pitchmaw responded. “Given the general mindset of women infected by _F. reproductum_ , I suspect that most of them will zero in on an uninfected target or be occupied with their personal ‘favorites’ among the infected men.” He recited the scenario with all the concern of someone shopping for chairs. “You should be safe here while I infiltrate the mansion and-”

“Wait.” Tsuneo’s voice halted Pitchmaw mid-sentence. “Don’t leave just yet.”

The monstrous shark cocked its head to one side. “Did you have any concerns about my plan, sir? I can adjust it to account for any variables that you’ve-”

“No, no, your logic checks out fine.” The undead warrior shook his head as he took a few steps forward. “I’m just gonna need to ask you for another favor before you go…”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

Irene heard Tsuneo before she saw him; she was too exhausted from screaming and struggling for even the virus-induced lust to maintain its grip on her. Still, she let out a sigh when she saw the familiar form come to a stop below her. “What, are you here to taunt me? …Go ahead; it’s not like I can do anything to stop you.” She let out a small, bitter laugh at the irony.

“You can wait ‘til your body calms back down.” Despite his chiding remark, Tsuneo reached up and pulled his girlfriend from the lamp post. “After all, I’d rather not cause a resurgence of this superbug.”

“…Understandable, even if I can’t stand this any longer… Seriously, I’ve been a horny wreck all day even before this… _whatever_ got me.” With the little strength she had left, Irene shook her head wearily. “I _can’t_ keep doing this, Tsuneo. It’s not good for my remaining sanity to be _this_ focused on my own libido and be unable to deal with it properly.”

“I wouldn’t know how that feels,” Tsuneo admitted. “I’ve never had any close encounters like that ‘til today…and that’s the only reason we’re still kicking right now.” He shook his head. “There’s virtue in celibacy…even if it was enforced by the social climate of my teenage years and a lack of understanding all that ‘romance’ nonsense after coming to the Nexus.”

Irene closed her eyes as she considered Tsuneo’s history. In her right mind, she’d be mentally kicking herself for trying to drag him into uncharted waters; as it was, she only shuddered in a maelstrom of conflicting feelings. “…I just want _one_ V-Day where I can get release without force! _Is that too much to ask?!_ ” She sniffled as her eyes began watering. “…I don’t mind the torment, Tsuneo. Kinda _like_ it, actually…but I _do_ mind the lack of payoff.”

“This is literally our second Valentine’s Day together, love…and my second Valentine’s Day, _period_.” Tsuneo’s laugh sounded sincere enough, but it quickly dropped off into a sigh as he took in Irene’s pitiful state. If not for the mark on her stomach, visible where her shirt had ridden up, he could’ve seen this as a genuine admission of her pent-up feelings…even _with_ the marking, he half-suspected that the virus was just amplifying her existing frustrations.

“That being said…I see your point,” he said at last. “And you’ve already opened my eyes to it…give it ‘til tonight, Irene. If the scans show you’re clean of the neurotoxin, I’ll fix you. That’s a promise I’ll make _damn sure_ I keep.”

“…Thank you. And…I’m sorry for forcing myself on you.” Irene laid her head on her boyfriend’s shoulder as he pulled her into a hug. “…This…neurotoxin fucked with my brain more than usual. Might as well keep me in these cuffs until I’m actually cured; I don’t want you to get attacked again if I slip.”

“That’s the idea…” The revenant looked away from her, a level of indifference coming to his voice. Hearing this only worsened Irene’s tears to the point where she slipped off Tsuneo and fell to the ground sobbing. In her despondent state, she barely noticed her boyfriend’s own look of regret as he knelt over her…but she heard his words as clear as day despite the pounding in her ears and his own raspy voice.

“Irene…I want you to know that this doesn’t change anything. No matter what happens…no matter what misunderstandings may come between us…I know that we’re strong enough to overcome it. And…I’m sorry too.” He gave her a small, warm smile as he reached into his pocket. “I’m sorry that I’ve caused you so much trouble by being a dumbass about my issues. I’m sorry that I didn’t talk to you about this so much sooner. And…most of all…” He closed his eyes as he pulled out a jet-black fang as long as his forearm, visibly dripping with inky green ichor. “...I’m sorry for _this._ ”

Mesmerized by the metaphorical baring of Tsuneo’s soul she had just witnessed, it took Irene a second to realize what the undead warrior was holding. By the time realization hit, she only had time to blurt out “Wait, no-” before Tsuneo drove Pitchmaw’s severed tooth deep into the base of her neck.

“Goodnight, love. We’ll see each other soon.” A slight twitch of the fingers gripping the base of the fang was Tsuneo’s only outward response to his action; otherwise, he held firm until Irene’s struggles ceased and she closed her eyes with a sigh. Despite himself, he laid two fingers against the side of her neck; once he felt a faint pulse, he withdrew Pitchmaw’s fang before calling its former owner over their communicators.

“It’s done,” he said simply. “Where are you?”

“En route to the mansion,” Pitchmaw replied. “I’ve just injected Jack with the cure _and_ a healing serum - it looks like he’s had an _especially_ rough time. I’m checking the perimeter for any other infectees before I proceed inside.” He paused as a faint whirr was heard from his back-saw. “If I may, sir…is something wrong?” From the slightly hesitant note in his query, he sensed Tsuneo’s stormy mood even over the comm line.

“When this is over, ‘Maw…I have a priority one order for you.” Tsuneo clenched his fist around the tooth he had “borrowed” from the Bunker agent. “You’re to use _every_ resource at your disposal - _including_ whatever’s at the Node - to _exterminate_ the Cupid’s Fever Widow as a species. Bad enough that its venom’s already been synthesized for the worst depravities I’ve ever seen firsthand…but I’ll be _damned_ if an outbreak like this ever happens again.” A red glow came to his eyes and arm veins as he went on. “I don’t care _how_ you do it…hell, your inky pals can even _keep_ the little fuckers for research or whatever…but I want this spider _**wiped off the face of the Nexus proper.**_ ”

“By your will, sir.” Pitchmaw was already considering the best way to do so, even as the sound of rupturing earth indicated him tunnelling underground. “Perimeter appears secure; I’m embarking on my mission now. Please be advised; there’s no sign of Miss Naami around the area - I think we’ll deal with her last. …I assume that you remember the plan for her?”

“Don’t worry, ‘Maw…not even _she’ll_ see this one coming.” Tsuneo glanced at the fang in his hand, still dripping a bit of PEN-Serum from its tip. “Let us know when you’re ready to go.”

“Understood, sir. I’ll call back soon…right now, I have a cure to distribute. Pitchmaw out.” With that, the signal cut out, leaving Tsuneo alone with his thoughts and an unconscious Irene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That heart to heart. And hey, it shows that Irene (and who knows if the other ladies do as well) realizes what they've done. Or maybe it's because Irene's already a few screws short, so the virus couldn't really keep its grip on her. Also, yes, she's gets better. She has a Philosopher's Stone in her heart, so her life energy allows her to regenerate injuries pretty quickly, even while wearing anti-magic cuffs (which meant no summoning portals or weapons to get herself out of that mess).
> 
> And I may have taken some glee in putting her through that. Because this story needed to show that there were consequences for their actions, even if they weren't entirely aware.


	6. Love Bites

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the cure in hand (and claw. And torso-mouth. And...), Pitchmaw goes to work. Meanwhile, Izza goes on a rampage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember how I said there was character death? Here's the chapter where it happens. Tread lightly (but then again, you've been treading around rape/non-con, so...)

## Part 6: Love Bites

The soft hiss of melting metal was the only sound to be heard in the basement as Pitchmaw burrowed up through the floor, finding himself in the power room. A quick scan of the room (figurative and literal) revealed no other signs of life…as well as the remains of the main generator, covered in chocolate beetles and green plastic dogs in various stages of melting.

_Well…that explains the blackout._ Pitchmaw’s scanner followed the traces of Chaos Magic to a particular wire that seemed to be morphing into a tiny banquet hall. _It appears that Miss Naami caused one of her famous “Chaotic Chain Reactions” by hitting a light elsewhere in the mansion…but time for that later. I have a job to do._ Retracting his limbs to leave himself hovering in the air, he silently ascended the stairs to the first floor.

_Ah, here’s our first patients of the session._ After identifying and triangulating the life signs up ahead, Pitchmaw slithered out of the doorway to find Zs among the immobilized forms of Aumier, JoJo, and Dante. As he had guessed earlier, the infected beast-woman was focusing solely on her boyfriend; if the wide pool of blood spreading around them was any clue, their interaction was anything but conventionally pleasant.

“Grrrnnff…snrrrffl…rrrrRRAAAH!!!” Zs’s snarl of triumph was muffled by the bloodied chunk of Dante’s throat held between her clenched teeth, adding a gruesome new hole to the other wounds covering his body. “Grrr…c’mon, you sad ‘coon! Is _that_ all you got!?” She glowered at the deep gouges she had torn in her boyfriend’s chest as they slowly mended themselves. “What, gonna let a little paralysis stop you from _getting better!?_ ” Her eye twitched as she seized Dante’s bloodied, half-skinned head with both hands. “Hurry up and DIE so you can come back…and I can have the pleasure of killing you again!”

Growling in frustration, Zs sank her teeth into what remained of Dante’s face, only to freeze when she heard the faint clatter of claws behind her. She released her mouthful of furry flesh and straightened up; the deliberate movements of a surly predator interrupted mid-meal. A low growl built in her throat, blood dripping from her bared fangs as she slowly turned her head to regard the newcomer out of the corner of her eye…

…just in time for Pitchmaw to grab her by the head and slam her into the floor. Zs’s growl turned into a grunt of pain and rage as she fumbled for her machete, but five quick pricks across her head left her vision swimming and her limbs falling under her. She just barely saw her attacker planting a hand-syringe in Dante’s body before slipping into the void of unconsciousness. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

_This was_ not _how I expected to spend Valentine’s Day._

Isaac had no idea how long he had been paralyzed in his chair, but he had a feeling that most of the day had passed by now. The echoes of his sister’s earlier scream were still faintly ringing in his ears, but most of his focus was on the revelation that a virus was running through the Society. From what little he had overheard, several women were already infected - including Irene, if her cackling was any indication - and there was no telling who else had caught the contagion since.

Maybe no one. Maybe _everyone._ The thought both chilled and boiled Isaac’s blood; the former because of the fate he knew was in store for the victims, the latter because he was helpless to do anything about it. _Oh, the bitter irony; an honest-to-gods outbreak, and the doctor’s one of the first casualties._ If he could laugh, he would; as it was, he was left to brood until a noise reached his ears from the hallway beyond.

“Pardon my intrusion; I think that I have business here.” Isaac mentally groaned at the sound of Pitchmaw entering the ward. _Either Irene is absent, or the situation has become desperate indeed if he’s allowed to come here._ He shifted all of his attention to his ears as he tried to discern Pitchmaw’s movements. From the chorus of clicks and slithering, it seemed that the Bunker agent was in his bestial “shark” form; from the way they rose in volume, he was creeping towards the desk.

“Ah. There you are, Dr. Williams. …I see you were investigating the crisis as well.” In his mind’s eye, Isaac could see Pitchmaw briefly scrutinizing his notes as he reared up on the other side of the furniture. “I’d update you, but I’m in a bit of a hurry…so I’ll just get straight to the point.”

Even without any feeling in his body, Isaac’s mind briefly raced when he heard a soft, metallic “ _snikt_ ” - Pitchmaw had just unfurled one of his hand-syringes. He decided not to focus on what the Node agent might be doing with it before that calm, clinical voice was heard once more.

“If you can hear me, Doctor, I’m injecting you with a cure to the virus. You should regain some mobility within 30 minutes…but I’d recommend staying here. It’s still quite dangerous in the mansion; I sought you out in order to give you maximum recovery time.” From the brief, distant buzz alone, Isaac could imagine the eldritch shark-monster hesitating on his next statement. “…Please try to gather as much strength as you can; I’m afraid you’ll need it once this outbreak is resolved. Take care of yourself, Dr. Williams…it will be alright. We’ll make sure of that.”

With another “ _snikt_ ” and a fading clatter of claws, Pitchmaw withdrew from the medical ward, leaving Isaac alone with his thoughts once more.

_…I think I see why Irene hates this holiday. This was the_ worst _Valentine’s Day I’ve had in years._ Even as he thought that, he noticed the barest tingling in his body, spreading from what felt like his chest. _Regardless…it seems that it won’t be my last._

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

Juliet knew she was doomed the moment she felt Emily’s tentacle-whip graze her in the War Room, but she kept her head. Once Steve had destroyed the escape route and flown off, she recklessly charged into the fray, fighting though the fully-infected women and making a beeline for the game room. As she expected, Cipher had already left, giving the cyborg free reign to rebuild the barricade over the door and then some. When everything not nailed down (and some things that were) was covering the doorway, Juliet simply sat down, put her cybernetics on a time-lock, and waited for the inevitable.

It wasn’t long before the tingling heat flooded her body and the telltale mark appeared on her exposed stomach, but as she had planned, there was little she could do about it. Although she was quick to get to her feet - learning to rise without arms was one of her first training courses in White Noise - there was no way for her to surmount the barricade without her mechanical augments. As such, the infected cyborg could only pace around the room, counting the long minutes until the time lock disengaged and occasionally calling out in vain hopes of someone coming to investigate. 

Suddenly, she heard a noise outside; a faint clicking and clattering that came to a stop when they neared the game room. Something about those noises sounded unpleasantly familiar, but her lust-addled mind was too desperate to care as she stumbled up to the door and called, “Hey! You! Mind givin’ a girl a hand here? I’ll make it worth your while…”

The silence stretched long enough that Juliet feared that her request had been ignored…until she heard the rev of a chainsaw on the other side of the barricade. _Hell yeah!_ she mentally cheered. _Sweet freedom at last! Whoever’s over there is a real lifesaver…wait…who the hell in the gang uses…a……?!_ She took a few steps back as she realized the identity of her “savior”…moments before they tore through the barricade with the massive energized sawblade acting as their tail.

“Hello, Miss Kingsley.” Pitchmaw gave his best polite smile as he came through the door, but his shark-like face gave it a predatory edge as he approached the shivering Juliet. “No need to thank me; your presence alone makes this more than worthwhile.”

The cyborg could only give a quiet “Aaah crap.” as Pitchmaw opened his jaws, allowing his worm-like tongue to shoot towards her with a green-tinted needle at the ready.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

Contrary to what some of her friends would say, B.Nana knew a thing or two about being tired. Even her incredible exuberance had its limits; after a successful party, a round of “sexy times”, or just a generally exciting day with the Society (which was often), few things felt better than falling into bed for a good night’s sleep. “ _The due reward for_ time _well-spent,_ ” Tim would’ve called it…emphasis on the word “time”, of course.

Today, however, the walking fruit-woman was tired - no, _exhausted_ \- in a way she’d never felt before. Her limbs were jelly, her eyelids were lead-weighted curtains, her skin was a pincushion, and her throat felt like Irene had force-fed her napalm…but even that burning paled to the heat within her very core. It was that heat that drove her onwards, despite every cell of her body screaming at her to take a break; she _needed_ to be free of it, no matter what.

_No matter what…_ The image of Brian’s panicked face floated through her mind, but she shook it off. _I’m sorry, Bri-Bri, but you_ know _how I get when the itch hits! Sometimes, it just gets_ sooo _bad…I can’t control it…I just…_ go _for whoever’s closest!_ She broke out of her thoughts long enough to notice herself staggering up the stairs towards the third floor. _I promise I’ll let you have payback - with interest! - when this burning goes away… please…let it go away…_ She was fully roused from her thoughts when she heard a * _thud_ * down the hall.

“Bri-Briiiii…is that yoooouuuu~?” Despite her fatigue, B.Nana’s query had an aggressively singsong tone as a familiar need stirred in her. “Finally woke up, didja~?” She mustered what strength remained in her to increase her pace down the hall. _Hope you’re ready for Round Two…’cause I sure am~_

To B.Nana’s disappointment, Brian didn’t seem up for another go just yet; he was still lying on the floor in front of Emily’s room, still as a statue. She was just about to proceed anyway when she noticed something odd: the spider-bunny was lying in the _opposite_ direction of where she’d left him. Looking closer at Brian’s exposed chest, B.Nana could see four pinprick wounds on his carapace, along with a few drops of swirling green and blue liquid.

The same liquid now dripping onto her back from above.

_Huh…looks like I’m not the only one leaking he- waaaaait a sec…_ Instinctively, B.Nana looked up to see something rapidly descending upon her; an impossibly-huge mouth lined with spear-like fangs.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

Tavo wasn’t sure what to think about his current situation. He was completely paralyzed, unable to do more than think, breathe, and listen to Bea and Coco’s unusually heated argument somewhere above him over who got to “ride the pony” next. He knew that he should be terrified about what was happening…but a not-so-insignificant part of his mind couldn’t deny that it was strangely arousing at the same time.

_Oh, for Trivium’s sake, Tavo, FOCUS!! Unless Pitchmaw’s having one of his once-in-a-Black-n’-Blue-moon lapses in judgement, you and your girls are on a timer for death here! ……Heh. “_ Timer for Death _” would be a neat name for a metal band-_ He was brought back to the problem at hand when he heard Bea screech in frustration - mercifully not at a weaponized pitch.

“For fuck’s sake, Coco - you _just_ got off! It’s my turn now - lemme ride ‘im!”

“And let you hog him for _another_ fifteen minutes!?” Coco snapped back with none of her usual cold professionalism. “Must I snap a bone or two of yours to have some personal time with my man!?”

“ _Your_ man!?” Bea echoed incredulously. “I can give Tavo a better lay in my _sleep!_ ”

“Then have a nap while I get my satisfaction!” Coco retorted with the hint of a smirk in her voice. “…I can’t guarantee there’ll be anything _left_ when you awaken, mind~” 

Bea only snarled furiously at the assassin, getting a growl in return; from the sound of it, Tavo guessed they were right above him. There was a long, tense moment of silence…and then he heard the sound of two bodies falling on him amid a particularly sloppy makeout session.

_Fffffuck…I_ really _wish I could see this right now……Huh?_ Tearing away his attention from the slurps and gasps literally on top of him, Tavo strained his ears as he picked up on a high-pitched whirr, rapidly drawing closer. Suddenly, it rose to a roar, prompting a brief noise of surprise from his girlfriends before they began screaming in a mixture of anger and terror.

“Dammit, Pitchmaw, remove your…maws…from me _this instant!_ ” Coco yelled.

“Offa _you?!_ ” Bea shouted. “Get offa _me_ , ‘Maw…!! DON’T YOU FUCKING _DARE_ STAB MY ROCKING HORSE!!!” Her futilely furious scream was echoed by Coco’s as Tavo wondered what Pitchmaw was doing up there.

When he awoke half an hour later to see the pinprick marks of four mandibles and an oversized needle on his belly, his thunderous cry of shock could probably be heard on the Nexian mainland.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

“A little tie here, another knot there, aaaannd…ha-HA!” Brianna stepped back to admire her handiwork; a complex tangle of wires, silk, and ribbons binding Tim in the ruined War Room. After having her “fun” with Jack, she was returning to the mansion when she happened to peer through the window of the lounge. Noticing the paralyzed pegasus-man, she quickly burst in and brought him upstairs to take part in her latest “masterpiece.”

“ _Brianna, please._ ” Dionysus’s usual enthusiasm was nowhere to be heard as his host checked the setup currently trapping Tim, Matt, and Chervil. “ _I know we like to party hard, but this is a little_ too _intense for my liking! I mean, look at ‘em! They’re, like, in a_ coma _or something!_ ”

“Aaah, don’t be such a wuss, Dio!” The female hybrid licked her lips as she pondered which man to go for first. “Nothing wakes you up like the feeling of a beautiful woman with her mouth on your-” She paused as she felt a vibration along one of the threads crisscrossing the room. “Bookmark that thought…sounds like company’s coming.” Despite her words, she didn’t even turn around as Pitchmaw peered around the corner of the doorframe.

“Pardon my interruption, Miss Buena, but I have some business with you and our friends over there. Don’t mind me; I’ll be out of your way before-” The Node agent paused when Brianna flexed her arms and spider legs, causing numerous threads to snap taut around his body. “Hm. I take it you object to this?”

“ _Au contraire_ …I couldn’t agree more! You’ll be _outta my way,_ alright~!” Before Pitchmaw could activate his saws, Brianna yanked on the threads as hard as she could, tightening them like garottes around the monster’s form. Her efforts were rewarded with a chorus of wet squelches and clatters, followed by chunks of biomechanical flesh scattering across the room. “ _That’s_ what you get for interrupting an artist at work, you tasteless inksack! ……How’d that look, Dio?”

“ _Brianna, you sick woman…that was…_ ” Dionysus paused when he noticed a faint twitch from one of the nearest chunks. “ _…Spectacular, darling! That’s why you’re the Colonel! What say we add a bit or two to your…display over here?_ ”

“Great idea, Dio~!” Brianna scanned the room, still oblivious to the subtle twitching of Pitchmaw’s remains. “Whaddya think would look best?”

“ _…Perhaps his tail spike?_ ” The Parasite drew his host’s attention to the dull silver spike lying just outside the door. “ _We could work that into an…arrow or something? Y’know, ‘cause it’s Valentine’s Day?_ ”

“Hmm…true, true.” Brianna nodded sagely as she stepped out of the War Room to pick up the indicated piece. She turned it over in her hands, considering its artistic applications, before she noticed an odd detail about it. “...Hey, Dio? Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t Pitchmaw’s blood s’posed to be ink-blue?”

“ _Yep. Those swirls of rave-party green are_ definitely _not normal…even by Pitchmaw standards,_ ” Dionysus added idly.

“Ah, of course not. I’d be happy to elaborate once your host is back to her usual self, Dionysus.”

The spike dropped from Brianna’s hands as she whirled to face the source of the all-too-calm voice. A tiny cry escaped her throat as she saw the horror within the War Room; her masterpiece was being dismantled by Pitchmaw’s squirming remains. Each piece moved with a will of its own, melting through wires, burning threads with tiny sparks of electricity, tugging ribbons apart, and combining into limbs and mouths that injected Brianna’s captives with the same greenish liquid slithering back into their quickly-healing wounds.

“NNNOOOOO!!! MY MASTERPIECE!!!” The ex-Scarlet Collective leader seized the sides of her head in horror, nearly tearing out her hair before the thought of _doing_ something about it crossed her virus-addled mind. Her face twisted with rage as she pulled the needle and thread from her ear…only to be toppled by something knocking her legs out from under her.

“ _Never thought I’d say this, but…this party’s_ over _, love._ ”

Brianna’s eyes widened as she comprehended Dionysus’s words. _You…you set me up!_ Her anger flared once more, but any further action was prevented by Pitchmaw’s insectoid hind legs pinning her to the ground as a sinuous mass of PEN-matter loomed above her. She just barely saw the spike settling into place at its tip before the half-formed tail lanced forward and pierced her chest with it.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

“Emily, darling, just take a moment to think-”

“No time, ‘Thena! Running!” Emily’s eyes nearly spun in their sockets, constantly sweeping her surroundings for any sign of Pitchmaw as she went for the stairs. Having heard the commotion in the War Room, she had gone to investigate - and hopefully get some action - only to glimpse the shark-monster’s tail slowly pulling itself together amid Brianna’s manic screams of despair. Deciding that she wanted absolutely _none_ of that, the undead goat had turned tail and ran as quietly as she could.

“Sweetie, please…you’re only exhausting yourself. This virus within us has taken hold of your mind, driving you to…such lengths…” Athena gave a mental shudder as she recalled what her host had done to Jack alongside Brianna. “This isn’t you, Emily; you’re stronger than this plague. You need to _fight_ it!”

“Uhh, did you _hear_ that back there?!” Emily panted through a mixture of fatigue and fright as she nearly tripped over her own two feet on her way past the second landing. “There’s no fighting ‘Maw - he’s gone _completely fucking insane!_ I gotta get our ass outta here before he picks _us_ off next!”

Athena allowed herself time for a sigh - clearly, the infection was aggravating her host’s occasional tendency to completely miss the point. “And where do you expect us to go?” she asked. “Pitchmaw knows this island’s topography inside-out, to say nothing of what Izza’s doing outside. And if he really _has_ turned on us…don’t you think his first priority would be to disable the teleporters?”

“Maybe, maybe not…but _I’m goin’ for it anyway!_ ” Emily’s desperate decision left Athena worried for her…and the wider Nexus. _I can’t allow this infection to spread,_ she thought. _Forgive me, Miss Emily…but for the good of the Nexus, I’m going to have to stop you from reaching that room!_

As the Parasite gathered her resolve for what she was about to do, Emily bounded across the first floor, trying not to look at the bodies strewn about the entrance to the basement as she descended the final flight of stairs between her and the teleporter room. Just as she reached the bottom, her eyes flashed purple before her legs froze in place.

“Whoa! …Athena, what _was_ that?” The undead goat looked at her hand-mouth in confusion when the momentary stun wore off. “Are you feelin’ funny too?” 

“I…I’m not sure,” the Parasite lied. “Something just made my power flare up for a moment; I’m sorry if I startled you.”

“Aw, it’s nothin’…but if we don’t get outta here soon, bein’ startled is gonna be the least of our problems!” Glancing around to regain her bearings, Emily turned towards the teleporter room before her legs suddenly froze again. “…Athena, what gives?! We gotta move!”

“I’m sorry, Miss Emily…it just keeps happening for some reason.” Athena kept her most apologetic tone, hoping that Emily didn’t catch on. “Perhaps this is an effect of the virus within us?”

“You _kidding_ me right now?!” Emily exclaimed. “Save the theories for _after_ we’re outta the inky shark tank!” She seized one of her thighs with her hands, trying to physically pull the leg forward. “C’mon, legs! MOOOOOOOVEEEE!!!”

“…I’m sorry, Emily…but I’m afraid that I can’t let you do that.” Athena’s voice was the very definition of regret before she took full control of her host’s body and screamed at the top of her lungs. “PITCHMAW! WE’RE IN THE BASEMENT - HEADING FOR THE TELEPORTER ROOM! STOP US, _NOW_ , BEFORE MISS EMILY-” Her purple-glowing eyes widened before returning to Emily’s usual gold.

“What the actual FUCK, ‘Thena!?” she cried. “Are you _trying_ to get our asses bit!?”

Athena’s only response was a blunt “Yes.” as what little light remained in the basement was blotted out by the large shadow appearing in the doorway above. With a shriek of mortal terror, Emily forced her legs into motion as she lunged for the door of the teleporter room…roughly five feet too far away to have any hope of making it. Landing hard on her front, the undead goat crawled forward with the fervor of a woman possessed before Athena finally retook control of their shared body to freeze them in place.

“Again, I’m sorry…but this is the only way.” Emily’s Hostilized eyes closed as Pitchmaw stalked up with his hand-needles primed. “You’ll thank us for this later…I promise.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

Once Emily had gone limp beneath his claws, Pitchmaw withdrew his syringes and mentally reviewed his “curing spree” before calling his friends in the lab. “Carnage Cartographer to Society; I’m pleased to report that Phase 2 is complete. The mansion is secured, and all of our infected friends have been cured…aside from Miss Naami.”

“Good work…and so ends the _easy_ part,” Max commented. “Hatred of you aside, Izza’s had the run of the island for hours; it’s a miracle she hasn’t destroyed it outright by now. It’s safe to say that you’ll be fighting her on her own terms…assuming you can even find her in all that chaos.”

“It shouldn’t be too problematic,” Pitchmaw replied as he returned to the first floor. “I’ll just identify the biggest Negavore readings on the island and work from there. If I may, however…are the women in R&D beginning to recover?”

“They’re just starting to awaken now,” Gideon reported. “They’re still groggy - understandable, given their prior exertions - but they seem to have lost the markings on their stomachs and regained their normal states of mind.”

“Excellent…the cure’s doing its work, then.” Pitchmaw nodded to himself as he opened the front door. “It should take some time, but our friends in the mansion should also begin regaining consciousness in the next-” He paused as a small figure dashed past him and through the open door; a small construct of rock and vines. “…Hm. Doctor Williams has already regained the ability to command his golems; perhaps the cure works _faster_ than I thought.”

“Or that’s just the ‘ _Williams family determination_ ’ doin’ its thing,” Scafe quipped before the new detail settled in his mind. “Wait…if Isaac’s sending his golem out, d’you think…?”

“I’d suggest following it, Pitchmaw,” Hanna said. “It’ll likely lead you straight to the climax of our unexpected horror story.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Locking his scanners onto the golem, Pitchmaw began gliding towards the source of the Chaos Bolts still flying out of the distance. “Remember the plan, everyone…and try not to worry about any disturbances from hereon. I suspect that’d just mean I’ve found our final target…and circumstances may dictate _maximum effort_ again.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

“Take THAT! And _THAT!_ And some of _THIS!_ Ohh, you want some too!?” Izza punctuated every shout with another burst of magic from her wand, adding to the pure madness unfolding around her. Ever since Irene had portalled her to the far side of the island, she had been a frenzy of activity; running, leaping, and warping in random directions while firing magic bolts, Arcane Lasers, and the odd Chaos Buster at everything in sight. It hadn’t taken her long to begin doubling back, and the effects were obvious. The ground was crystalized or completely scorched everywhere she went, trees became random fixtures, even the very air didn’t taste the same anymore.

It was the natural result of her volatile magic being stacked on itself; a scene that could only be described as pure, undiluted _chaos_. Normally, the sight would please her, but today, it only stoked her frustrations; try as she might, the restless burning in her core refused to abate. In her entire unlife, she had _never_ felt this kind of intensity; not even during her initial postmortem rampage or the deepest moments of her rage against the Node. If she was honest with herself, it was a marvel that she was still able to contain this inferno…but she had no idea how long that would last, and that _scared_ her.

Izza was never one to shy away from using her Chaos Magic, unpredictable and devastating though it was. It was _losing control_ of that energy that left her mortified; the thought of causing another disaster on the scale of Malite City and the _Transcendence_. Part of her desperately wanted to seek out her friends, see if they could help her…but after her brief encounter with Jack, she didn’t trust herself around them right now. Especially with the thoughts stubbornly clawing their way into her head.

“Get out getout getout _getout_ GET _OUT!_ ” As she had done several times before, she turned her wand on herself, blasting herself in the face. The resultant burn marks faded pretty fast thanks to her growing cF, but the pain wasn’t putting the _ideas_ out of her head.

The dark thoughts that created her in the first place were calling her to pay it forward.

“No…no, no no, nonono…” Izza doubled over and clutched her head with both hands, struggling against the horrible mental whispers, when she sensed movement ahead of her. Looking up, she saw Isaac’s golem running towards her, expanding “from fun-size to full size” (as she called it) as it closed in and scooped her into its rocky arms without breaking stride.

“Whoaaa!” The undead chaotimancer yelped as the golem turned on its heel and started bounding back the way it came. “Where’re we going!?” She got her answer when a clap of thunder reached her ears, accompanied by distant flashes of dark blue light up ahead. _Oooh no…of_ all _the things it could be…!!!_

“NOT. FUCKING. **NOW!!!** ” She twitch-teleported behind the golem carrying her, allowing her to dropkick the large stone construct towards her inky adversary. Her efforts were rewarded with a loud crash, sending magic-mutated wildlife scattering in all directions; however, Pitchmaw himself simply teleported in front of her.

“Ah, there you are.” The eldritch shark-monster shook a few shreds of rubber ducks and comically-large Slinkies from his tail-saw as he gave Izza a short bow. “Don’t be alarmed; I’m here to help-”

“NOT INTERESTED!” Izza interrupted with a furious Chaos Buster, but Pitchmaw evaded it with a quick dart to the side. “For _once_ in your unholy life, LEAVE ME ALONE!!!”

“I’m here on behalf of the Society; we all need you cured immediately.” Even as he dodged a spread of magic bolts, Pitchmaw cocked his head as he scanned Izza. “Hm…you’re significantly more lucid than I expected at this stage of your infection.”

“Cure? Infection? What the fresh hell are you talking about, you thousand-tooth inksack!?” Izza’s confused shout only prompted a curious hum from Pitchmaw. 

“Therein lies a long, fascinating story…which I doubt you have time for at the moment.” The Bunker agent’s comment was immediately proved when yet another blast of red energy narrowly missed his head; in response, he merely injected himself with one of his hand-syringes. “Suffice to say, I have the solution to your immediate problem…and I’m going to help you whether you like it or not.”

Izza’s defiant retort died in her throat as the shark before her nearly exploded into inky energy, quickly dissipating to reveal Pitchmaw’s towering dragon form. The eight-limbed, four-winged, biomechanical abomination was always an intimidating sight, but he seemed especially ominous today for his lack of melting flesh and immediate aggression. Coupled with his previous words, her mind defaulted to the worst-case scenario, prompting her fear to multiply faster than her Chaos Factor.

“Okay, FUCK THAT NONSENSE!!!” Drawing her Red Rune and Rose simultaneously, Izza immediately let loose with a massive torrent of magical assault, spells coming at a blistering pace faster than Pitchmaw ever saw before. “THAT WAS THE LAST STRAW, BUNKER PUPPET; **TIME TO FUCKING DIE!!!** ”

For his part, the monstrous dragon merely shook his head, raising a barrier of inky plasma to meet the incoming spells. “I thought you’d say that…hard way it is, then.” His third eye flashed with a hint of menace as he prepared to retaliate; a sight that would leave his friends quaking in their seats if they could witness it.

Sadly, the closest camera was already turned into a beanpole covered in dynamite, leaving the group in R&D to guess what was happening through the few cameras unaffected by Izza’s prior rampage. Although they couldn’t see what was going on, they heard an unearthly shriek as Izza started using every trick in the book and its unabridged expansions. Any who dared look outside saw a mushroom cloud of countless elements and objects, quickly pierced by several arcing beams of ink-colored lightning.

“Well, they sure aren’t wasting time!” Gabe exclaimed.

“Understandable, given that Pitchmaw just _hammered_ Izza’s ‘Rape Button’,” Tsuneo sighed. “This is gonna get _ugly_.”

“…Betcha ten bucks that we’ll need to redraw the island map by the time this is over,” Eridia said jauntily. “Any takers?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dante got better. He always does.
> 
> Also, Isaac's comment about the worst V-Day? Involved ribbons in places they shouldn't be. He... wasn't happy about the aftermath.


	7. A Chaotic Climax

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Patient Zero being the last of the infected girls that needs to be cured, Pitchmaw takes her on. Can he end Izza's rampage before the whole island is destroyed/turned upside down?

## Part 7: A Chaotic Climax

“As impressed as I am that you’re keeping up so admirably…” Pitchmaw veered around several peppermint-scented conifers to avoid the oversized boulder of blue cheese rolling his way. “…this isn’t exactly making my explanation of the situation any easier.”

“YOU KEEP THOSE INKY CLAWS TO YOURSELF, AND _MAYBE_ YOU’LL GET TO KEEP THEM ON YOUR FUCKING CORPSE!!!” Izza clearly wasn’t listening to a word Pitchmaw was saying now that he’d managed to trip her out. Her salvo of magic continued unabated; every shield he raised exploded in his face, every step errant made the ground explode into various extremely hot compounds, and taking to the air often had him getting smacked down by some kind of metal ball being launched by God himself.

“As ever, Miss Naami, you’re only making things worse for yourself. As I said before, I’d just like to cure what’s currently ailing you.” The draconic Node agent breathed a torrent of green-and-blue flame in an upward arc, clearing out the latest wave of incoming randomness as his stomach mouth fired off several of its teeth like missiles. Despite the intimidating display, Izza proved even harder to hit than she was to dodge; she was twitch-teleporting several times a second, and her extremely random Chaos Magic afforded no modicum of prediction to where she’d appear next.

“THE ONLY CURE FOR PENFECTION IS _DEATH,_ YOU INKY DEMON SPAWN!!!” Izza plunged her baton into the ground, causing a massive wave of duplicates to erupt in front of her, even below Pitchmaw.

“Actually, it doesn’t help at all…moreover, that’s not what I was referring to-”

“THE SAME IS TRUE OF YOUR FUCKING EXISTENCE!” Ignoring the dragon’s words, Izza blasted her baton with a Chaos Buster, sending a copy of the spell through every duplicate wand to create a sky-splitting beam firing out of the ground. If the Nexus was in conventional space, that alone might rocket the planet several miles off course; as it was, it only served to create a massive beacon of light that could be seen from the mainland.

_Well, the infection doesn’t seem to be hindering her banter all that much…_ Pitchmaw cracked his neck idly before dispelling his latest barrier and sweeping the area with a thin beam from his ninth eye. _For the “Patient Zero” of this outbreak, she seems remarkably composed - relatively speaking._ He dropped to a prone position, both to evade Izza’s next assault and to crawl in pursuit of her when a row of inky explosions erupted along the path of his earlier beam attack. _It’s as if she’s **immune** to the mental influence of the virus…_ The thought had barely finished processing when he noticed there were at least three of the Chaotimancer firing at him now.

_Ah, she’s resorted to duplication magic. She must be quite adamant about complicating my job today._ Pitchmaw’s hind wings gave a powerful downbeat, sending a tremor and a wave of choking blue smog through the chaotified forest. In the same motion, the dragon flicked his front wings forward, releasing multiple saw-edged energy discs that weaved almost aimlessly through the trees.

“Alright, here’s an idea: why don’t we set aside the current scenario and discuss other things?” he called politely. “I recall you implying that you made some interesting finds in the Wizard’s Dump?”

“ _Suuuure_ I did…namely, a _great big SHUT UP AND **DIE!!!**_ ” In a flash of light comparable to an exploding firework, Izza appeared directly above Pitchmaw’s hindquarters to deliver a stomp with both feet, following up with an even more intense burst of chaotic energy to the small of his back. She teleported away before the dragon’s tail could lash around her, but the hole she had made in his upper body sealed up almost before the attack had passed through; moreover, her brief close proximity had given Pitchmaw a chance for a more detailed reading.

_Hm…that’s interesting. It seems that there’s a_ different _reading here, in addition to the virus and Miss Naami’s usual Chaos Factor._ As the Carnage Cartographer reared up on his backmost pair of legs, sweeping the skies with intense webs of lightning from his claws as the mouth on his underside spat blobs of green-and-blue PEN-matter in the Izzas’ general direction, he searched his memory for any matches to the reading, quickly coming to one particular conclusion. “Congratulations, Miss Naami!” He half-leapt, half-fell back to all eight limbs, creating another explosion of lightning and eldritch vapor around him. “It’s not everyday that one finds a **Gem of Clarity** , even on the Nexus.”

Izza’s only answer was a veritable explosion of Chaos energy around her. “I don’t care if this rock is a Gem of Clarity or a Gem of Nuclear fucking Fission; I’m not letting your ink-stained tendrils anywhere near me!!!”

“I’d expect nothing less, Miss Naami.” Pitchmaw’s next blast of PEN-fused plasma breath - more of a devastating beam, really - was unhindered by the sudden buzz of a Society communicator. “Hello; Carnage Cartographer speaking.”

“Pitchmaw, status report!” Scafe barked. “Are you okay?”

“Yes…better than okay, actually,” Pitchmaw took a moment to review his position and Izza’s likely path. “This all seems to be going as planned; the next phase will begin very shortly. …I assume you’re all prepared for that?”

“As ready as we’ll ever be,” Max answered. “You’re sure you can handle this? We’ve never seen Izza this nuclear...”

“I appreciate the concern, but I’m doing fine. In fact…it’s a bit embarrassing, but…situation aside, I’m actually enjoying this.” Even amid the fierce battle, Pitchmaw sounded like he was complimenting a new shade of paint. “Don’t fret, sir; Miss Naami will be back to her usual exuberant self in-” His comment was interrupted by a massive hand of raging red energy seizing him by the face and yanking him into a nearby blood geyser.

“If you’re gonna _insist_ on being an intrusive pain in my ass…AT LEAST **PAY ATTENTION TO ME!!!** ” Guessing what was coming next, Izza teleported well away from the geyser; sure enough, it briefly paused before resuming its output in shades of inky blue. Moments later, Pitchmaw burst from the top of the geyser, using his position to send a full salvo of tooth-missiles across a good portion of the forest.

“UP HERE, JACKASS!!!” As Pitchmaw’s various gazes drifted up, he saw several more Izza duplicates brandishing wands in each hand. A quick scan indicated about 48 of them, all channeling their magic towards a truly massive ball of chaotic energy at the center of the overhead formation, rapidly changing colors and arcing with bolts of stray magic, zapping the mountains and causing the snowpeaks to change into other liquid forms.

“Ah. Very clever, Miss Naami.” Pitchmaw sounded outright pleased with this development. “I see you’re making the most of your unique condition-”

“SHUT UP SHUT UP **SHUT UP!!!!** ” The Izzas screamed in unison before directing the ball of chaotic death straight down. After calculating the probable effect on the island (blown to smithereens and random detritus), Pitchmaw heaved a sigh that sounded just a hair exasperated.

“Very well…I suppose we’ve had enough fun for now.” Gruesome cracking and squelching noises filled the air as the dragon’s body split open, rearranging itself around the hanging edges of his torso-mouth like a grotesque flower. Said mouth straightened out and split open like a tuning fork, building up an intense amount of inky energy as a ring of dark lightning appeared around the form’s “petals”. “Time to get your head out of the clouds, Miss Naami.”

The air was rent with an indescribable sound as a surprisingly thin beam was fired at the incoming Chaos Death Ball, sending ripples of blue through it, but not really slowing it down. However, the lightning ring suddenly contracted around the beam and shot into the ball, causing the whole thing to rapidly flash between its multicolored appearance and abyssal black with swirls of blue and green. The Izzas had the presence of mind to teleport away before a much larger ring of lightning erupted around their magic attack, crackling with increasing intensity as it closed around the ball…before both vanished with the tiniest “ _vwoop_ ”.

“……You gotta be fucking _kidding_ me.” Even in her furious state, Izza could only deadpan her response to the profound anticlimax as Pitchmaw reverted to his ‘normal’ state (insofar as his dragon form could be called “normal”). “...Alright, whatever, I’m out.” She quickly made for the mansion again, Pitchmaw’s form casting a great shadow over the island as he glided in pursuit.

“I hate to say it, Miss Naami, but our friends will have _choice_ words for you about that last attack of yours…not all of them bad, even!” The dragon rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he considered how many of his peers would’ve considered the previous clash more awesome than terrifying. _More than I’d predict, most likely…_

“You say that like I didn’t _expect_ you to obliterate the giant projectile!” Izza retorted. “ _Ideally_ , that explosion should’ve created enough ambient energy to precision destroy you with a Trueshock Chaos Barrage, but nooo; you have to be the biggest killjoy on the Nexus and just disappear the whole damn thing. So fuck it - clearly you’re outclassing me on every aspect, there’s nothing left to do but get as far away from you as possible.”

“I would _strongly_ advise against that-” Pitchmaw’s warning was interrupted by yet another Arcane Laser.

“And _I’d_ strongly advise you not to hit the obvious hot buttons, but _clearly_ no one’s listening today. Not Amy, not Brianna, and certainly not you.”

“Hm…ah, I see.” The massive dragon’s wing-saws buzzed as the pieces clicked. “You’ve _drastically_ misinterpreted my admittedly-poorly-worded intentions, Miss Naami. Forcible sexual congress is the _last_ thing any of us need right now-”

“Tell that to the ladies,” Izza snapped back. “For some reason, they’re all turning into base beasts worse than _I_ get during this holiday, and that’s saying something...” She looked away before coming to a sudden stop; she still felt a soreness in one of her legs from an earlier romp. “Gods, do they have to play so rough…?”

“Well…that ties into the ‘infection’ I mentioned earlier.” With Izza briefly paused, Pitchmaw took the opportunity to glide overhead and land ahead of her, nearly laying down to put himself at her eye level. “Miss Naami, I’m afraid that you’re the carrier of an all-new virus: _Fallopini reprod-_ ”

“Fuckin’ nerd…” Izza interrupted dully, clearly not in her best heckling mood.

“Ahem…” Pitchmaw coughed lightly before skipping ahead to the details. “Essentially, any female who touches you becomes infected with abnormal levels of lust and aggression. Males, on the other hand, aren’t so affected at a touch, but through fluid exchanges - be it intercourse or a ‘sloppy makeout’ - they become infected and immobilized. In either case, we’ll see a red hourglass of hearts on the infectee’s midriff…as you’ve perhaps noticed?”

Following Pitchmaw’s gaze, Izza looked down at herself, conjuring a mirror to actually see past her shorter stature and loosened chest bandages. “…Well, I’ll be damned. That’s strange.” She poked the red marking curiously. “Hope Brianna doesn’t mind me aping the ‘widow’ motif…”

“And it sounds to me as if you’ve just burned out.” Pitchmaw nodded to himself, his scans showing the local Chaos levels dropping rapidly; in turn, his own form started to rapidly decay. “I assume you’re starting to see my concerns about curing your infection now?”

“Whatever that means. I’m just… _done_ , today.” Izza answered noncommittally, clearly more than a little upset, but too exhausted to care. The Gem of Clarity in her pocket was probably the only thing keeping her from going nuclear again. “The girls in the Society have gone off their rockers, my own gods-damned mind is trying to fuck me over right now, and the _worst_ part…?” The glare she sent at Pitchmaw was equal parts withering and resigned. “You’re _actually_ starting to make a little bit of sense.”

“Well, that’s heartening.” The dragon’s smile was audible even as he quickly melted into a puddle of inky ooze before reforming his humanoid form. “With that considered…if I may, of course…Miss Naami. Would you please allow me to put our friends at ease by curing the virus within you? I solemnly promise that it won’t-” He paused as Izza tossed her coat in his face.

“Fucking _do_ it before I change my mind on this.” The chaotimancer crossed her arms over her chest and looked away with a soft “ _hmph_ ” as Pitchmaw walked up with a syringeful of green fluid in hand. She felt the barest prick of a needle in her shoulder before she passed out, being caught by Pitchmaw’s free arm before he gently eased her to the ground. Once he was sure that Izza was out like a light, the Society’s resident Bunker agent picked up Izza’s discarded coat, shaking off the excess dust before neatly folding it and placing it on the undead magician’s stomach - afterwards, he brought out his communicator and set it to “mass broadcast”.

“Carnage Cartographer to Society: as of now, Lactrodectus Hemostasis is officially extinct.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

As Pitchmaw had predicted, Isaac had his hands full for the next two days. While the medical ward had more than enough room for all of the formerly-infected Society folk, recovery was slow, especially for the early infectees like Amethyst or Brian. There was nothing serious - moderate-severe dehydration and fatigue, a few flesh wounds, and a _lot_ of soreness - but the sheer number of cases left the doctor and his undead attendants even more secluded than usual. Pitchmaw offered to help, only to be swiftly rebuffed - “you’ve been in my office long enough for a whole month,” Isaac had said.

Eventually, however, things began to return to whatever passed for normalcy in the Crimson Society. Isaac gave the former infectees a clean bill of health along with a small caveat: “No more rough sex, okay? Not for a while, at least.”

“ _Worst. Valentine’s Day. Ever._ ” Zeus grumbled, having been forced to spend the entire ordeal trapped in Brian’s body when B.Nana infected him. “ _All the tits I could ever want on demand…and I didn’t get to enjoy **one.**_ ”

“Don’t make me fry you in time for Easter,” Irene grumbled.

“Hear hear!” Tavo chimed in. “At least _I_ managed to actually get some before-” His boast was cut off by Isaac’s golem picking him up and carrying him outside. A few members snickered, but Coco and Bea only put their hands/hooves to their faces; a motion mimicked by Isaac.

“And I still need to give Chervil his new knives,” he sighed.

“Beg your pardon?” The ferret looked up with palpable excitement, but Isaac made a quick “I’ll tell you later” gesture as Irene walked up to him. Thanks to her alchemic augments, the pyromancer had recovered much faster than her peers, allowing her to help her brother around the ward. 

“Hey Isaac, still need my help ‘round here?” When Isaac shook his head, Irene beamed. “Alright then; I’m heading to see Pitchmaw, then Tsuneo.”

Isaac stared at his sister for three whole seconds before her words registered. He immediately rushed to her side, placing a hand to her head. “You’re not any warmer than usual, so you’re not sick. So what gives? Usually, you avoid Pitchmaw like the bubonic plague.”

“He’s…got something I need.” Irene’s face flushed as her wings flickered yellow. “I’ll let you two lovebirds talk, while I get out of here. See ya~!” Before anyone could comment, she opened a portal and all but pirouetted into it, leaving Isaac staring at the spot she stood a moment ago.

“…I will _never_ understand my sister’s madness.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

Irene’s portal dropped her right outside Pitchmaw’s room; she would’ve gone straight in, but painful experience had taught her that barging in on a Bunker agent was a patently bad idea. Instead, she checked to make sure the security was off before walking up and lightly knocking on the door.

“Just a moment, please.” The faintest snippets of conversation could be heard through the door before it hissed open. “Ah, Miss Williams. How are you feeling?”

“Trying to take everything in.” Irene answered as she strode into the room. “Hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time, Pitchy.” As she spoke, she surreptitiously looked around, trying to figure out what the Carnage Cartographer was up to now.

“Not at all. I was just relaying Mr. Sunika’s new orders to the Node; _Lactrodectus morrigani_ has just been marked as ‘purge on sight’ for my peers.” Pitchmaw gave a satisfied nod as he looked Irene over. “You seem to have recovered well enough…Mr. Sunika’s made good use of my ‘favor’, then. Hopefully it wasn’t _too_ traumatizing for you…”

“…Traumatizing… yeah.” Irene’s wings turned blue as she looked at the floor, which didn’t go unnoticed by Pitchmaw. 

“Oh…my apologies. I understand if you need time to get over that……so, how may I help you today?” If she didn’t know better, Irene would’ve thought that Pitchmaw was taking “awkward subject-changing” lessons from JoJo or Tavo; as it was, she coughed briefly to get her mind out of the doldrums.

“Right, right. Um, about those…anti-magic cuffs…um…” Irene’s wings fluttered with her nerves as she struggled to voice her request.

“I _also_ apologize profusely for those.” Pitchmaw’s wing-saws hummed softly as he recalled the earlier “favor” Tsuneo had asked of him. “Those cuffs were designed as a general countermeasure to magically-talented beings, be it external threat, rogue Society agent, or-”

“No no no, that’s not it.” Irene shook her head, hoping her blush wasn’t too obvious yet. “…Think you could set me up with a pair? Or two?”

From the way Pitchmaw’s shoulders sagged just a fraction of a nanometer, he almost seemed relieved by the request. “Certainly, Miss Williams. We’ll just need to go over a few requisition forms and safety waivers…” He produced his notepad and tapped it a few times, causing it to project enough holographic forms to fill a small book.

Irene groaned at Pitchmaw’s usual overpreparedness. “Of _course_ you can’t make it easy on me. …Fine, let me look it over.” As she prepared herself for the crash course in Bunker bureaucracy, she took comfort in the thought lazily floating through her mind.

_Should have this ready in time for_ next _year’s Valentine’s Day…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Irene likes handcuffs. Who'd've thunk it? Also, it took a month of angst before Tsuneo _finally_ got through to Irene that she was being too hard on herself.

**Author's Note:**

> So, you made it through to the end. Congrats. All characters are original, but three are pulled in from MLP: Tim, Tavo and Coco (for the fans, yes, THAT Coco. No, I don't get why she's a hitmare. You'd have to ask Tavo himself.) Thus, My Little Pony is copyright to Hasbro/Lauren Faust and all other characters belong to their respective creators.
> 
> A special thank you to my husband for helping create the outline, my friend Brian for being a good sport and letting me steal the original story (because this idea was originally his; I got pissed and took it as a challenge to myself), and Matt for being one hell of an editor and making sure that the characterization worked out.
> 
> I am mythicalmiracles on tumblr or Insanity_Lady on twitter if you wanna yell at me.


End file.
